


summer lovin'

by Magali_Dragon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Modern Westeros, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Summer Love, Surprises, The Summer Isles (ASoIaF), and now it is two chapters and over 20K words, boat captain!jon snow, minor satin flowers/loras tyrell, rich socialite!Dany, this was supposed to be a porn without plot one-shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26048182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: While on vacation in the Summer Isles, socialite Daenerys Targaryen wants to have a bit of sexy fun with private boat charter captain Jon Snow, and well, she always gets what she wants.  But Jon has some tricks up his sleeve that ahem--annoy-- our favorite dragon more than she cares to admit.  Dany soon learns that there might be more to this than just a summer fling.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 218
Kudos: 775





	1. summer fling

**Author's Note:**

> This started from seeing pictures of Emilia on her lovely vacation in Italy that should have been on in April (literally was going to the Amalfi Coast and everything) but pandemic and all, eh. Anyway, this was going to be just porn without plot, straight sex, nothing else, and like everything got away from me and became kind of plot-laden (just a bit) and way too long for a one-shot, so I split it into two. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

The Summer Isles were _boring._

This was Daenerys's assessment after only three days in the picturesque chain of islands as far south as the Known World seemed to go. She was half-tempted to cancel the rest of her vacation and jet off to Sothoryos or Ulthos or some other godsforsaken place just so she could have a bit of fun. She knew vacations were meant to be relaxing and to shake off your worries, pretend you were somewhere else, and put all your day-to-day concerns and the stresses of life in a box up high on a shelf, not to touch until your airplane wheels touched down back wherever you called home.

Except the thing was, Daenerys didn't really need vacations. To many her life was a vacation. She was the only daughter of one of Westeros's wealthiest men, the recipient of over a third of his wealth when he died, split with her two brothers. She didn't have to work a day in her life if she never wanted to, which she really didn't. She spent her days doing what was _expected_ of her. Philanthropic events, socialite functions and parties, making the occasional appearance at fashion and awards shows. She wanted to break into some serious areas of work, which she spent most of her time on, and yes, she really needed a vacation from that aspect other life—trying to prove to the old farts in Westerosi society and government that she was not one to be trifled with was exhausting.

She just didn't really feel like this particular vacation was necessary. Part of her would have preferred to be back in Kings Landing arguing with the government and trying to get her human rights organization off the ground. If she couldn't be there, she would have preferred to be in Essos, where she spent the majority of her life.

Her best friends on the other hand, wanted to escape somewhere even warmer, so she agreed, and they rented a palatial villa outside of Ebonhead in Sweet Lotus Vale, which her friend Margaery preferred to anywhere else in the Summer Isles, although Dany was partial to Lotus Port. She also liked Tall Trees Town, mostly for its long history and the various museums there with ancient carvings and artifacts of the Children of Summer. She could have fought Margaery on it but didn't feel up to it. They'd flown out on the Tyrell's private jet, since Rhaegar had co-opted Dany's jet for a conference he was having in the North. Viserys had lost his jet privileges after his latest escapades on them ended up in the tabloids. Rhaegar didn't like Dracarys Group—their family company— in the media for anything other than conquering others or helping the world become a better place.

Dany glared out over the private lagoon-like pool at the estate, to the crystal blue water of the Summer Sea. She wanted to go on a snorkeling trip in the Indigo Straits, but was overruled by Margaery, Loras, and Missy. Lora's boyfriend Renly had to leave the trip early to go back and deal with family drama, which irritated Dany as Renly would have been on her side. She sulked, unaccustomed to not getting her way, which her best friend Missandei told her she needed to get used to, as it was a growing experience.

She hated those experiences. Rhaegar said she often toed the line between "spoiled" and "driven." Yes, she could be spoiled, yes, she always got her way, but they had spent their entire time so far lounging at the pool, going into town to have lavish dinners and stay out late drinking and partying, and she actually wanted to do something else. First, she didn't get her way in their actual location in the Isles for the trip, and now she didn't get what she wanted with the snorkeling excursion. Dany seethed; she hated this. "I want to go home," she announced.

Missandei pushed her sunglasses up her nose and settled deeper into her chaise. Her caramel skin had taken on a beautiful dusky sunset-like brown, smooth and supple, courtesy of her rigorous morning yoga sessions. "No," she replied.

"Why not?"

"Because you need this. You've been working hard."

"Fat lot of good it has done so far," she snarked. She was rich Daenerys Targaryen, heiress, socialite, and tabloid fodder. Rhaegar Targaryen's baby sister. Humor her so he didn't get mad and blacklist everyone in Westeros, but don't give her what she really wanted because she had no idea what she was doing, trying to play pretend businesswoman and philanthropist. She sneered at Margaery, who was trying to get Loras to go to the bottom of the pool where her designer sunglasses had settled after falling off her head when he'd tipped her off her float. She shouted at her sometimes friend and sometimes enemy, annoyed. "Fucking buy a new pair you can afford it!"

"Oh fuck you!"

They all laughed, except Dany, who was not in the mood to deal with Margaery. She scowled and wished she could set the bloody place on fire, just for something to do. She sighed hard. "Missy, come on, maybe tomorrow we can do something different?"

"Like what? This is fun enough."

"What if we do the same thing just somewhere else?"

Missandei held her hands out to the sides. "And why would we want to do it anywhere else? This place is paradise."

"It's just like all the other paradise places in the realm. You grew up on Naath, isn't it the same there?"

"Not really."

Dany blew out another breath, her teeth clenched, and she sucked in the warm air cocooning them. It was gorgeous, the climate here was practically a rainforest, but the cliffs housed old buildings in the style of Essos, form traders and sailors who came down to do business when the Isles officially opened up to the rest of the world. The water, courtesy of a current that ran from the far east, could be both warm in the Sunset Sea and also had pockets of crisp coolness that refreshed you instantly. She wanted to experience that.

She picked up her phone, scanning around on some of the travel apps, and found what she was thinking of, shoving it to her friend. "What about this, huh?"

"I don't want to open my eyes, just tell me."

Loras's shriek distracted Dany from her phone, glancing up in time to see that Margaery had pushed him headfirst into the water to go get her bloody sunglasses, ruining his carefully coiffed blonde curls. The Tyrell siblings had been Dany's friends since she met them at Highgarden Academy, a prestigious boarding school the Tyrells had attended for centuries. There were times when Dany wondered why she was still friends with them.

Like right now.

She picked up an empty bottle of water, chucking it, but it missed by a mile, sailing into one end of the pool to float around with the other expensive pool toys they'd bought on their way from the airport. "Will you both fucking knock it off! Come here, I want to show you this."

"What is it?" Marg called.

"We're going on a boat tour."

Loras pretended to gag, swimming over to the side of the pool. "I don't like boats."

"Well don't come, but I'm going."

Margaery came over then, grabbing the phone and staring at it. She wrinkled her nose. "A boat tour, really? So pedestrian, Daenerys."

"It's a day-long thing, drinks included, they take you around the Isles, to the grottos, and we can swim in the ocean, go to some lagoons, it'll be fun. Look, there's also a restaurant they will take you to where you have to arrive by boat, sounds fun." She arched her brows, deciding she would get her way on this. It was her vacation too, damnit. She was the one paying for most of them; as rich as they were, Loras and Margaery were classic moochers. Missandei, as the developer and CEO of a line of yoga studios, wear, and videos, as well as a model, had her own fortunes.

"But what if I don't want to swim in the icky ocean?" Marg asked.

Dany rolled her eyes; of course Margaery would want to go somewhere on vacation and then never actually experience the location itself. "So don't, stay on the fucking boat for all I care, but I'm doing it." She sniffed, sliding her legs over the side of her chaise and standing, long and slow, sauntering towards the bar to get herself another drink. "With or without you guys."

Loras poked Margaery in the ribs. "Sounds fun Marg, maybe you can score yourself some hot little boat skipper."

"I could," she said, pondering.

Knowing that at least she had Missandei, even if she didn't really want to go, Dany was fine if the Tyrells wanted to stay behind. Loras had nothing else to do since Renly headed back to Westeros early. She dropped a couple cherries into her vodka and pineapple juice, lazily stirring them around in her tall crystal glass. "So how many are coming with me?" she asked, holding her phone up.

"I can't let you go and get a boat captain without me," Marg said.

"So that's all of us then?"

Missandei, who had been quiet, sighed dramatically. "Fine, I suppose I'll go too. Can't have you getting killed by some wayward pirates."

"Thank you bestie."

"No problem bestie."

Dany smirked, turning and leaning against the granite countertop of the fancy outdoor bar, the stone cool against the heated skin in the small of her back. Her almost milk-white skin had been tanned to a moonlit-like glow, but she'd also burned a bit more than her other friends, giving her a slightly fried appearance on her belly and her face. Her cheeks burned a little with her grin, typing in her credit card information into the app to book the trip. A private all-day boat trip around the Summer Isles wasn't cheap, but she didn't care, money was no object.

Her phone buzzed a moment later, email confirming the receipt and booking. _We look forward to seeing you!_ it said with the various details of which dock to meet at, timing, and underneath said that Captain Jon and First Mate Satin would be their private guides for the entire day, would ensure their safety, security, and above all, their _fun._

She chuckled; whoever Jon and Satin were, she hoped they were prepared. Margaery was out for blood, Missandei was only going because she was doing a best friend duty, Loras was annoyed Renly was gone early, and well, Dany always got what she wanted, and was pleased that this time she'd won and would at least get to see something other than the interior of the villa.

The phone skidded on the counter as she tossed it to the side, leaning down to adjust her bikini bottoms, and wondering if Jon and Satin were cute, because she was also in the mood for some company on this particular vacation. It had been awhile since her last boyfriend, after all, and well, a woman had needs.

"Dany! Come put more sunscreen on me!" Missy called from her little nest.

Dany poked her belly, scowling at the flush that formed with the slight depression from her finger. She would need more too, if she wanted to avoid leaving this vacation appearing like a lobster. "Coming!” She walked out, and sank onto the chaise behind Missandei, beginning to lather her up with the sunscreen, hoping tomorrow would be fun.

If not, Dany wouldn’t be happy, and the world existed to ensure she was happy. Or at least, that's how it had always been, and so that's how it always would be, she smartly thought, smiling to herself.

* * *

“Gods I hope that isn’t them,” Margaery complained, as they walked down the walkway from the rocky street on the cliffside above them. Their driver had dropped them off, promising to pick them up promptly once they sent notice of their return. Daenerys knew that Rakharo and Qhono, her two drivers who traveled with her and doubled as her bodyguards, were nothing if not efficient. They no doubt would be waiting at the marina the whole day for their return.

She was rather eager for this trip, had been looking forward to it all evening. It would be quite lovely to get out of the estate, beyond the walls, and onto the open water. The Summer Sea was crystal blue, downright translucent, and while she preferred riding her horses or jetting across the sky from location to location, she wasn’t entirely averse to boats. There was something about just letting a motor loose and zooming across the water, wind blowing out her air and the ocean spray stinging her face. Today she was going to enjoy herself, fuck Margaery and Loras’s complaining.

“Oh _hello._ ”

It was Loras who spoke behind her, dropping his sunglasses down his nose to peer at the man who had hopped off a boat tied to the pier, with the sign above the walkways leading to it that detailed the charter boat company. Dany thought it amusing they called themselves ‘Sea Wolves.’ She thought wolves were more affiliated with the North, with ski lodges and luxury ice hotels. She chuckled, waving at the man. “Hello,” she called. “Are you Jon?”

“Nope, I’m Satin,” the young man said. He was quite possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life, and that was saying something, as Daenerys was a Targaryen. Targaryens were born beautiful and only existed to prove that the rest of the world were ugly and inferior. Or so her brother Viserys taught her growing up. The man smiled, dazzling white, his skin golden and smooth, and dark hair in perfectly coiled ringlets around his face, pushed up with sunglasses. The white polo shirt he wore was tight on his muscles, his white shorts almost painted onto an ass so tight you could bounce a quarter off it.

Dany squinted; she might not like this day if she was going to have to compete with this man’s beauty. She didn’t like men who were prettier than her. Neither did Margaery. It was a recipe for disaster. She was about to introduce herself, to suggest perhaps they made a mistake and they would find another boat captain, when she saw Satin’s bright blue eyes—like ice chips—drop from her and move to Loras. They scanned him, up and down, in one quick sweep, and then his tongue darted out to wet his upper lip. His dark brows arched. He ignored her completely, moving to Loras, offering his hand. “Satin Flowers, I’m the first mate of today’s trip, I’ll be accompanying you all day. And you are?”

 _Oh thank gods, he’s gay._ Dany bypassed Mr. Flowers instantly, while Loras preened, deftly unbuttoning his white shirt to show off the tan he’d been working on. She didn’t feel like reminding him about Renly. She saw Margaery’s relieved expression too, both of them walking by the couple now flirting shamelessly, and to the boat.

Another man emerged, hopping off the boat easily, barefoot and wearing worn cargo shorts. “Ms. Targaryen?” he asked.

Dany stared. She blinked; _oh my._

While Satin was the epitome of beautiful, this man was beautiful in another way. In a way where Dany didn’t feel competition with him, but immediate stirring in her belly, her cunt pulsing in anticipation. She drew in a breath, taking him in, from top to bottom. Dark curls like Satin’s, but they were messy instead of coiffed. Tugged into a man-bun it didn’t look pretentious the way Loras did his, but careless. His skin was tanned, but in a way that also suggested carelessness, from being on a boat all day instead of lying under the sun to get that perfect summer glow. He had some sunburn on his cheeks, on the tip of his nose. He had a dark beard, scruffy on his jaw, and sunglasses hid the color of his eyes, but Dany didn’t care about those.

The body was perfection; muscled in all the right places, his polo shirt untucked from his shorts, loose on his shoulders but tight across his pecs and biceps. There was the faintest bit of ink peeking from under the short sleeve; Dany longed to see what his tattoo was of, because that meant she could also see what else he hid underneath the fabric. It looked sinful.

She offered her hand. “Yes, I’m Daenerys, but you can call me Dany.”

He shook her hand, rather firm. Not at all the dainty little shakes she normally got from men who thought they might hurt her otherwise. Or else were too weak to actually squeeze a woman’s hand. “Jon Snow, I’m going to be your captain for the day, I see you’ve met my co-captain there, Satin.” His brow furrowed, dark brows pinching in annoyance, no doubt at Satin’s flirting with Loras. He said nothing though, jerking his head to the boat. “if you want to come aboard, I’ll give you our safety briefing and we can get underway. Quite a long day ahead of you and I don’t want you to have to share the best spots with the other tourists.”

As Dany didn’t share jack shit, she liked this man immediately. “Sounds wonderful, these are my friends,” she said, gesturing backwards to Margaery and Missandei. She turned, instantly scowling at Margaery’s sudden thrust of her breasts into Jon’s face.

“So lovely to meet you! I’m Margaery! I just love boats, you’ll have to let me steer,” Margaery flirted, shamelessly pulling at her coverup, in the same way that Loras had his shirt. The Tyrells were experts in this area, but they used too many of the same moves. Dany thought it was tasteless and rather juvenile.

Jon ignored her. “It is nice to meet you too Margaery.” He looked to Satin, who was leaning into Loras, both of them almost tipping over the edge of the walkway. He barked, wolfish. “Satin!”

“Yes boss, coming!”

Missandei moved by her, muttering. “Loras will soon enough too.”

Dany snorted. She climbed onto the boat, with Jon’s help, his palm warm in the small of her back, keeping her from losing her balance as it shifted at the weight piled to one side, all of them getting on at the same time. She grinned up at him. “Thank you.”

He said nothing, only turned and did the same with Missandei. Dany wasn’t sure what to think of it. She moved onto the boat, dropping her bag on the built-in bench in front of the stretch of glass in front of the boat’s helm and captain’s chair. She liked it so far; there was already a bucket of cold drinks and ice set out for them, towels laid out here and there, and a map of their various stops.

It wasn’t the hospitality that had her knowing she would be giving this company five stars, no matter how the day went. She pushed her sunglasses up on her nose, staring at Jon, who had finished with helping them on board and was walking over to the back of the boat, starting to do whatever it was they did to get them under way. “he’s cute,” she said.

“If you’re into that thing.” Missandei had a long-term relationship with another model, Grey, and she was uninterested in anyone but him. She sat down on the bench and reached into her bag, removing her e-reader. She sighed. “Let me know when they want to do that safety thing. Also, Margaery is into him too.”

“Hmm, I know. Not for long.” There was no way Margaery was going to get laid on this trip before her. Also no way it would be with Jon Snow. That man was hers, Dany claimed him first, she saw him first. It was her idea to come on this trip anyway.

Once aboard, they all gathered at the bow of the boat, Jon introducing himself again and Satin, going through what she imagined was memorized spiel about how they were there to keep them safe while also ensuring they have a good time. “We want you to remember your vacation in the Summer Isles with fondness,” he said, while Satin smiled wide. He gestured to the life vests that were set out. “First, we’ll have a little safety briefing before we get under way.”

The safety briefing wasn't so much a safety briefing as it was Margaery pretending that she had no idea how to properly put on a life vest and then attempting to get Jon Snow to put his hands on her tits. The gall of her, Dany seethed, contemplating throwing her overboard once they got far enough out into the sea. She decided against it because if so, then Snow would certainly go in after her and that was not at all what Daenerys wanted. She knew there was no way Satin would bother; he was too busy flirting with Loras. They'd immediately gone off to the back of the boat, chatting and "helping" each other put on sunscreen.

She never played stupid to get a man. Dany liked men to realize she had a brain, because she refused to waste her time with men who didn't respect that quality in a woman. She had a strange feeling Jon Snow would like that about her. She paid attention to the safety briefing, asked questions, and made a comment about how she was trained in CPR, you know, should he need it. He did not seem impressed with her knowledge of life saving measures, but perhaps he was just busy trying to get them out of the dock.

As for Satin, he didn't seem useful. He'd tossed the ropes off from the dock as Jon backed the boat away and then went to cling to Loras. Not that Loras minded at all. Dany was grateful for it; she didn't have to deal with whiney Loras now.

It left Jon Snow to man the helm, as she'd quickly checked on her phone for nautical terms, to assist in showing him she wasn't an idiot. She left Missandei to distract Margaery, thank gods her best friend was there with her, and sidled up to him. She'd chosen a black bikini with flame red ties and straps. It was mostly just triangles covering her more sensitive parts. One good wave and it would probably come right off. Dany hoped so.

She pushed her sunglasses up when she ducked under the roof of the cockpit area, her silver hair flowing back like water from her face. The sun had thankfully put a glow on her normally milk-pale skin, but the black bikini contrasted sharply, still making her appear paler than normal. It was her natural look. Margaery said she was a vampire. Dany told Margaery she'd have skin cancer one day and then who would be laughing. She made sure to swipe some lipstick on as they'd motored out of the dock and away from the marina, glad she'd also kept her red manicure and pedicure as new as could be.

"So a Snow down in the Summer Isles? How did that happen?" she asked, figuring getting the lay of the land here would assist in her conquest. She leaned a hip on the control panel, figuring she'd ask about it soon enough. men loved to talk about their toys. What was a boat if not just a big toy?

Jon didn't remove his sunglasses, even being in the shade; she was still annoyed she hadn't seen his eyes yet. "I took a flight down here," he said, droll.

She grinned. "Sarcasm, I like it."

"Well it is the truth."

"No seriously."

He pushed the sunglasses up, the move quick, and she almost fell backwards in surprise. As a Targaryen, her eye color startled most people who didn't think it was possible to truly have lavender eyes. Dany rarely met anyone who shared such a distinctive color, but here she was, with Jon Snow and his _gray_ eyes. They were stormy, like rolling clouds before the rain let loose. She licked her lips. They stood out against his sharp cheekbones, his raven curls making them almost lighter.

"Seriously?" he echoed. He smirked and turned to look back out at the water as he twiddled the wheel, the boat shifting direction towards open water. "I work down here when I feel like it. It gets cold up North."

 _Perfect._ The opening was right there. Dany leaned in, her hand sliding from her thigh to lightly touch his forearm, which flexed instinctively under her touch. She purred, pushing her tits together, the strings tying her bikini straining under the movement. "I can warm you up, you know."

He let go of the wheel, reaching over. Dany's heartbeat quickened, wondering if he would touch her, maybe on the cheek or take her hand, but...she stared, mouth falling open slightly, as he uncurled her hand from his arm and set it back down on her thigh, saying nothing and returning to steering the boat. He didn't smile, didn't even look at her, just stared straight ahead, voice even, a chill sending shivers down her spine. "We will be coming up to our first stop, Ms. Targaryen, perhaps you want to let your friends know."

Oh fuck my friends, she thought, surprised. The look on her face drew Margaery towards them like blood in water, the shark sensing weakness. She dove forward, cutting between them. "Oh Captain Snow! I've never learned how to steer a boat; can you show me?" She cut her green eyes to Dany, smirking.

Dany grit her teeth, pushing away and storming to the bow, where Missandei was stretched out on a towel, reading a book. She wanted to kick the book away, but instead she plopped down beside her on Margaery's vacated towel. "What was that?" she snapped.

"What was what?"

"You didn't stop her!"

"She claimed she had to pee; I wasn’t going after her there."

"Well she took an opportunity." Dany sulked; arms draped over her knees. She stared ahead, watching the shoreline come in closer as they circled around the island. It was truly beautiful. The day had just begun, there was plenty of time, she knew. She just had to find the right moment. She glanced over her shoulder, irritated that Loras and Satin were clearly hitting it off. "I need a cigarette."

Missandei gestured to her back. "I have your Juul in there. I thought you quit?"

"You know I smoke when I'm stressed."

"And wasn't this supposed to be a stress-free trip?"

Dany thought it was too, but that was before she met Captain Snow. She got back to her feet and went to her bag, removing the Juul. She puffed on it for a moment, inhaling the strawberry scent, and smiled around it, realizing Margaery had disappeared. Jon was alone by the helm again. She moved back around and down into the cabin of the boat, where Margaery was angrily pouring herself a vodka.

"No luck?" she teased, sarcastic.

Margaery slammed the bottle onto the shelf. "If Loras hadn't confirmed it, I'd think he was gay, but he's definitely not. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"What'd he say?"

"Told me if I wanted boating lessons, I can book them back at the dock and to go get ready for the stop." She drained the glass, shuddering. She growled, stomping back to the steps leading up onto the deck. A wry twist of her lips had her smirking, clearly satisfied that Dany was in the same boat—literally and figurately— as her. "Guess we're both not getting laid on this particular voyage."

 _Speak for yourself_ , Dany thought, tapping her index finger to her lips. It made her happy that Jon Snow was not interested in Margaery, which leveled the playing field. Meant it wasn't her. It just made the game a bit more interesting.

Dany liked a challenge, after all. And she never lost when she went after what she wanted.

* * *

Daenerys was going to murder Jon Snow.

She had never met a man who was as infuriating as him. Just in case Margaery was fucking with her, she grabbed hold of Satin, as he tried to go "help" Loras with getting into the water from the ladder at the back of the boat. "What's his problem?" she demanded of the pretty Reachman, who just smiled a dazzling toothy smile at her, laughing at her plight.

Satin patted her hand gently; his skin was so soft for someone who spent their days on boats and in the sun. "Oh darling, you think you're the first rich hot piece to try to get Snow's tight buns? Many have tried, and everyone has failed. He doesn't sleep with clients. He's pure like that."

That pissed her off. She wrinkled her nose, letting go of Satin and glowered at Snow. They had stopped at a beautiful lagoon, snorkeled in the coral, and ventured onto the sandy beach surrounding it. They jetted around and took pictures of some beautiful rock formations off the coast, including an old temple that no one could access and only view from the water. She tried to get him to take a picture with her there, but he politely declined. Margaery didn't give up, but she grew bored when he wouldn't do much other than hand her a towel after she climbed out of the lagoon.

Dany tried _everything._ She tried to get him to talk about SeaWolves, how long he'd been in the Summer Isles, where he was from up North, and what he did when he wasn't boating around. Every single answer was polite, vague, and non-personal. "I heard Northerners are a quiet bunch, didn't think it was actually true," she snarked, when he answered her question about if he was from Winterfell— the biggest Northern city— with a perfunctory nod.

He shrugged and suggested she go save Margaery from falling overboard—her friend had a few too many straight vodkas and was trying to see a dolphin swimming along the bow. "Fucking Margaery," she cursed, storming to go save her dumb drunk ass. Missandei could only do so much. Dany regretted encouraging her to come along, wishing she'd just kept it at her and Missandei. At least Loras was busy—he and Satin had gone under the deck and one of the cabin doors was closed. Jon seemed incredibly displeased.

They stopped at the best spot on the tour, about midway through the day, the grottos where the water was so clear you could see every single fish and piece of coral. The water was cool, fresh, and when you went into the grotto, the rock formations were so sharp and shiny the water turned everything sapphire and some even appeared green. They were called the Green Grottoes for a reason.

She was excited to see them, but also annoyed, as Jon would not venture into the grotto with them. Satin emerged from belowdecks, Loras with him, both looking a bit dazed. "Satin will take you into the grotto, we're the first ones here but it won't be long before other boats arrive," Jon explained, as Satin helped them into the little motor craft that would take them in. He lounged against the side of the boat, hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts. Unlike Satin, who had his white uniform pristine and tucked in perfectly, Jon's shirt hung loose on his hips, untucked and haphazard.

Dany put on an innocent face. "You're not coming with us?" She wanted to try to get him to help her into the boat. She was devolving into Margaery—losing brain cell after brain cell trying to get this guy. It was exhausting.

Jon smirked, shaking his head. His sunglasses were back on again, hiding those beautiful gray eyes. "Not today. Satin and I trade off."

 _Ugh, just my shitty luck._ Dany flashed a grin. "Well maybe I'll stay and keep you company."

Missandei shot her a look that quite literally said: _"If you do not come with me and leave me with the Tyrells, I will drown you and leave you for dead, especially since you dragged me along on this trip."_ Or something like that.

Dany slid by Jon, making a point to bump her hips against his. She turned, leaning over to pick up her camera, which she'd purchased before the trip thinking she might actually want to take some photos. It was cleared for underwater use too. As she leaned for it, Loras hurried by, knocking into her. "Shit," she cursed, slipping on the water that had puddled near the back of the boat. She grabbed hold of the seat where the camera sat, her other hand flying out for balance.

Without warning, two warm, firm, and callused palms gripped tight around her waist, holding her upright. Fingertips burned into the exposed skin on her hips, just underneath the stretch of fabric that had ridden up slightly around her arse cheek with the slip. She turned her head so fast she wondered if she snapped her neck, startled at the sensation. She straightened up, the braid she'd tugged her wet hair into moving over her shoulder, her eyes locked onto what she hoped were his. For all she knew, he had them shut behind the mirrored shades.

The warm palms on her waist slid down and away. "Watch your step, it's wet," Jon said, his burr only slightly raspier.

 _Oh fuck yes, it is_ , Dany thought, turning away from him. She hid the smile on her lips and walked over to the edge, Satin helping her into the raft. They pulled away from the boat, leaving Jon alone, leaning over the edge watching them.

Missandei stretched out beside her, springy dark curls flying across her forehead as they zipped to the grotto. "Why are you smiling?" she called out.

Dany grinned. "No reason." She lifted her camera up and snapped Missy's bored expression, head fallen back and arms out. It looked like the cover of a damn magazine. She wouldn't say anything, not with Margaery listening.

Jon Snow wasn't as cool and devoid of attraction as he seemed to be. Dany had felt his fingers when he let go, the light scrape of them on her skin, the way his thumb had caught on the bottom of her bikini, deftly tugging it back over her cheek. She studied the camera, adjusting the exposure on it, and smirked, unable to stop herself.

Men thought they were so smooth, so subtle, and for a brief moment, she thought she hadn't felt it, but she had. That sweep of someone's eyes over you, the prickle in the back of your neck when you knew you were being watched. They thought they could do it without you knowing. Men. Typical. And Jon Snow was a man, after all.

And he had stared at her ass when she got into the boat.

Dany grinned, turning and setting up the shot, focusing in on Jon Snow watching them from the boat, and hit the shutter, capturing his silhouette, for posterity's sake, she told herself.

* * *

"Oh my gosh that was so fun!"

Missandei even was excited after the last stop, where they'd been swimming and jumping off the back of the boat, only to have a pod of dolphins wander up, curious and intrigued by the visitors to their domain. It had been downright fucking magical, like a damn movie, Dany thought, glad that her friends were no longer pissed at her for demanding they come with her. She hoisted herself out of the sea, water sluicing down her in rivulets, her ropey curls tangled again and knotting on her shoulders.

She ran her hands over it, tilting her head back and lifted up her chest, not even realizing when she felt someone behind her. She opened her eyes, peering through slitted eyelids as Jon Snow came around to drape a fluffy towel on her shoulders. "There's some wind coming in, it will get a little chilly," he said.

"Hmm," Dany murmured, noncommittal. _Sure._ She ran her hand back over her hair, glancing at him, and a sudden thought occurred to her. It was baseless. Tasteless. Beneath her. Something Margaery would do.

But she wanted to know.

Her fingers pulled back over her hair and swiftly pulled at the tie holding her bikini top on, the ties giving way easily as the weight of her tits won out over the poor structural integrity of even the most expensive of designer bikinis, the two triangles falling free, exposing her to Jon Snow's gaze. "Oh!" she exclaimed, pretending to be surprised, as the fabric fluttered down to the deck. "Oh my gods!"

Except she made no move to get the top, nor to cover herself. Out of the corner of her eye, sunning herself at the front of the boat, Margaery bolted upright, mouth open, glaring angrily at her. Missandei just hid a laugh behind her book. No one knew where Loras and Satin were. They could have drowned themselves in the water for all Dany knew.

"Guess that wind picked up," she said, winking at Jon as he calmly knelt and picked up the top. She took it from him, cocking her head, now puling the towel closed over herself. She smirked, licking her lips. "See something you like?" Her tits were amazing, if she did say so herself. She'd received zero complaints.

Jon didn't even crack a smile. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts; his shirt was still on, even though she'd tried unsuccessfully to get him to take it off, eager to see the muscles she _knew_ lurked underneath. Even as hot as it was, he still didn't take it off. "Yes," he answered.

Her brows sprung to her hairline. "Oh yeah? Want to see more?" she swayed a little closer to him. This was so beneath her, but if that's what she had to do, it was what she had to do. Jon Snow was proving to be very difficult to crack. Her hips bumped to his again, but he moved at the same time and all she got was the side of his hip.

Jon took her shoulders and turned her around, pointing. "I like shadowcats."

To her furious disappointment, Jon was pointing to a shadowcat that had just jumped from a higher branch down to a lower one, hanging out over the water near the shore, its long tail swishing lazily in the warm sun, eyes closing, a massive housecat sunning itself instead of a wild animal. She grit her teeth, clenching against the urge to elbow him in the groin, while Missandei squealed and rushed to the edge to get a better look, asking if they could move closer for pictures.

He smirked at her, letting go of her shoulders. "Sure. I'll move us closer."

Dany wanted to murder him. He had to know what he was doing, right? She even tried to get a look to see if she had an effect on him in some other way; those cargo shorts were too baggy though to get a good look. They were nicely shaped to his fine arse, however. She stalked to the front of the boat, Margaery approaching her with a bottle of water. She uncapped it and angrily drained half the damn thing, wiping water from her mouth with the back of her hand. "What?" she snapped.

Margaery smiled, innocent. "Nothing."

"This means nothing."

"Sure, whatever you say Daenerys."

Dany fell backwards onto the bench, not bothering to look back at Jon. She was so mad. She may have met her match with this one. She didn't even pay him attention the rest of the boat trip. Maybe he was just being hard to get. She wasn't stupid, she felt his hand on her arse when she'd fallen. Oddly that was the only thing she'd done that had been entirely unplanned and the only thing that got his attention.

She peeked down at her tits, making sure they were still okay. She had some sunburn, but she was in excellent shape, her hair did get a weird gray-like appearance when it was wet, but it had dried by the time they arrived back at the marina. They had decided against going to the restaurant you could only access by boat, after Missandei had checked and there had been some reports of paparazzi waiting on a new celebrity couple. Dany wondered who it was, because if it was Viserys or someone from her family, she wouldn’t mind popping in and getting some free press.

"No idea, some B-list actress and her slowly losing status husband, remember them from that TV show? He always looks like he hates her and is miserable." Margaery knew exactly who it was, but Dany had zero idea. Guess the actress wasn't even B-list, she figured, acquiescing to Missandei's request. Her friend hated the paps, and was often a target, given her celebrity status as one of the richest models in Essos.

Since they arrived back at the marina early, Dany stayed back on the boat, while Margaery hopped off, but not before trying to squeeze Jon's arse— "Just to see if it's real," she chirped at him with a coquettish wink and sashay of her hips. He barely nodded to her, but he did pocket the generous tip she covertly passed him. Missandei thanked him politely and he smiled at her—it was the only smile Dany had actually seen of him that day. Satin was with Loras, both of them making plans to see each other later.

Dany smiled slyly at Jon. "I had fun today," she said, slinging her tote bag up on her shoulder. Her denim shirt rode up slightly when she set her foot on one of the steps to get to the walkway, but paused, turning back to him. She pursed her lips. _I am not done yet._ "In fact, I don't think I got enough time at some of the stops."

"I'm sorry about that, please fill out the survey you'll receive via email," Jon said, again, rather droll. His sunglasses were hooked in the collar of his shirt. His hand looped around one of the ropes on the walkway railing. He seemed sincerely apologetic. "I do hope though you had an enjoyable time. Feel free to book with SeaWolves again on your next Summer Isles vacation."

It was so rote, so annoying. She was just another rich bitch to him, she thought, scowling. Well, she was Daenerys Targaryen. She was a rich bitch with dragon fire and a temper to match. She smiled, dazzlingly, blinking innocently. "Actually I wouldn't mind returning. Tomorrow, perhaps?"

Jon reached over to the tip jar, shoving Margaery's wad of cash into it and checked a ledger beside the jar. He shook his head. "Unfortunately we have a booking for all day tomorrow, but we are available the following day."

"For a private excursion?" She was half-tempted to confirm it would just be him but refrained. Satin winked at her from where he was standing on the dock, waiting to help her off the walkway once she got that far. She smirked t him, while Jon consulted the schedule. He'd disappear, she supposed, if necessary.

Jon nodded. "Yes, we're available for private excursion. I can pencil you in but go through the website to officially book. You can specify the stops you want. I'll do my best to accommodate, but it depends entirely upon sea traffic, weather, and the other companies that are also there."

She pursed her lips, tightened them in a painful smile. "Will do. I'll see you then." She squeezed his arm lightly, fingers drifting on the relatively soft skin of his forearm, locking her gaze on his. He once again appeared as cold as ice, not a smile, not even a blink. Might as well have been made of stone. The Northerners would be so proud, she thought, how well he kept to the stereotype of them as blocks of ice with no emotion. "I'll think about you while I'm waiting." She let go, hopping easily onto the walkway and striding off.

Satin muttered under his breath, helping her get down onto the dock. "You are good, but he's better."

Dany chuckled, handing Satin his tip, which was more generous than Margaery and Missandei, although certainly not as generous as what she thought Loras gave him. "Yes, but he's never met a Targaryen." She beamed at the pretty man, who seemed genuinely amused. "Haven’t you heard Satin? We're conquerors and the North bent the knee." She licked her lips, turning to wiggle her fingers at Jon, who just politely waved back from the boat. She smirked. "And he's going to bend his to me."

* * *

Thank the gods for Loras's sex drive was not something anyone ever had thought, Dany was sure, except for her that morning, when she barged into his room to find him and Satin tangled in bed together. "When is the next trip?" she demanded, hands on hips, while Satin rubbed sleep from his eyes and consulted his phone.

"Um, in an hour. The Mormont family."

"Thank you. Carry on gentlemen."

Satin called out from the bed, while Loras grumbled and shoved a pillow over his head, burrowing beneath the covers. "If you think you're going to get him, good luck, he makes a habit of not sleeping with the clients, I told you."

Dany leaned on the door frame, beaming at Satin, who still seemed more amused than anything. "Satin, that's part of the fun."

"I'd make a bet on it, but I don't lose."

"Neither do I." She flounced out of the room, going to hers and gathered up her things. The bikini she chose that day was a bit demurer; she'd already determined he wouldn't respond to more or less skin, so she chose the little purple gingham number as it showed off her eyes, which he had always locked on, laser focused. She pushed her tortoise-shell glasses up on her forehead, checking her camera battery, her phone, and tossed in a book she'd been reading for good measure. She wore white little denim shorts with a wide brown belt and put on a purple tank over top of the bikini and snagged her worn denim button-down as a cover up in case it got cold.

In the kitchen, Missandei dumped a pink smoothie into a glass, shaking her head at her when she emerged from the stairwell. "You are incorrigible, has it truly been that long?"

"Not since Daario."

"That fuckwad? At least Jon Snow looks like he'd be more interested in you than his own pleasure."

Dany rolled her eyes, nodding in agreement. Daario had been a preening pretty boy. She had been with him solely for fun and when he got too clingy—he liked the status she gave him more than anything else she provided—she dumped his ass. He'd been terribly annoying, sending flowers and chocolates and not getting the hint. That had been a year ago. "I think Satin would give me more ammo if I asked, but he was busy with other things last night."

Margaery entered from the massive terrace attached to the kitchen. "He's a cutie, I wonder if Renly knows about him." She fiddled with her phone. "Perhaps I should let him know."

"Don't ruin it," Missandei said.

"Missy, sweetie, Renly and Loras have an unconventional relationship, I'm sure he'd be pleased to know Satin is in the mix too. Speaking of relationships, where's your handsome boy?"

"He wanted to come down for a couple days but got stuck in Meereen."

Dany grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. "I'm leaving. See you later."

"Do you have condoms?" Missy asked.

Margaery snorted. "Yeah right, she's not getting any with Jon Snow. Truthfully, I think there's something wrong with him.” She put on a sympathetic face, as though Jon Snow were representative of an entire collective of men who needed a charity named after them or a gala event held in their honor. The Men Who Spurned Margaery Tyrell. Dany thought he might have really been the first. The first straight one, at least. The beautiful rose shook out her chestnut mane, clicking her tongue. “I mean, he could have something wrong with him medically. Perhaps he’s one of those types who just do not sleep with anyone or are not attracted to any person. Like those weirdos up at the Wall that take a vow and stick to it their whole lives."

Dany didn’t want to point out to Margaery that just because the Night’s Watch—the old-fashioned border and elite security forces that manned the Northern border of Westeros and also conducted various secret things inside and outside the continent, who took their vows for life, only pledged not to marry anyone, but that didn’t necessarily mean they didn’t fuck anyone. Missandei, ever the voracious reader and academic, corrected her. “Maybe he’s just not into you,” her friend said with a sly smile, drinking her smoothie.

Margaery scowled, her blue eyes narrowing, shrewd. “Unlikely. He didn’t do anything with Dany either. No, he must be asexual.”

Jon Snow was not asexual. Daenerys had felt those hands on her hips, the way he lightly brushed over her arse cheek. It was not an accident. He was just…disciplined. There was a way to his cock, she knew, and she was going to find out what it was. “Whatever the case may be, I’ll find out what it is.” She smirked at Margaery’s horrified look. “Later.”

“Wait! Where are you going!?”

It was wrong to leave Missandei to clean up the mess, but Dany owed her for so much anyway, Missy could just add it to her tab. She skipped out of the villa, over to the car where Qhono was waiting, her loyal driver and bodyguard already waiting. She climbed into the small Summer Islands vehicle, designed for the narrow streets and alleys, and pondered how she could go about getting rid of this Mormont family who had booked the SeaWolves for the day.

Must not be a very large family, if Jon had them to himself that day. Unless Satin was going to untangle himself from Loras’s vine-like clutches and beat her to the marina. She told Qhono she’d be the day again, to take the rest of it off, go find some fun. He frowned, unaccustomed to such a word. She skipped down the path to the dock for SeaWolves Boat Tours and Taxi and found an older man—silver fox maybe if that was your thing—lecturing a young girl with dark hair and a permanent scowl on her pale face. They looked like they had just arrived in the Summer Isles, judging from their lack of tan.

Another man, rather bear-like was speaking with another woman, who was also scowling and appeared to resemble the young girl. A woman with a sour look was standing with them as well, appearing as though she’d rather be anywhere but at the marina. Or maybe with the family.

“Jorah, I don’t care what you say, I’m not wearing a bloody life vest! I’m fourteen! It’s embarrassing!” the girl shouted.

Dany approached the man, who caught her eye almost immediately. She stopped in her tracks, sizing him up in about ten seconds. A quality of hers she’d needed to hone from the moment she was born, as there were always people who wanted something from her. Targaryens were rich, beautiful, and powerful. They might have always gotten their way and taken what they wanted, with fire and blood, but the reason they were so good at it was because they could see what anyone wanted to take from them first.

And the man’s look told her that he wanted her. She wrinkled her nose, forcing down the bile in her throat. He could have been her father’s age, after all. She was glad that her sunglasses were on, hiding her eyes, because she was going to need them. She plastered a smile on and practically skipped to him, choosing the exact perfect moment to push them up to her forehead, blinking and stunning him with her look. “Hi!” she exclaimed, over emphasizing her Valyrian accent. “Are you here for a boat tour? You know I only have one more day left, and I was soooooo looking forward to one….”

A bit of a sob story, a casual touch to his arm, a wad of cash for the teenager, and a promise of ad ate that would never happen—the girl named Lyanna told her that her cousin Jorah, the creep, was married and that was his wife—not that Dany would even have entertained the date anyway, and the Mormonts were going off and finding some day trip fun elsewhere, much to the Old Bear’s consternation, as he chastised his son for his shortcomings.

 _Poor guy_ , Dany thought, but also not really, because he was a creep who was flirting with a girl that could have been his daughter. She approached the SeaWolves dock, seeing Jon coming out of the little shack that served as an office. He frowned at her. “You’re not the Mormonts.”

“Right you are, very observant. They’ve found something else to do.” She bounced down to him, grinning wide. “And I’m your day today.”

That morning he was wearing cargo shorts again, only this time instead of a worn polo with the SeaWolves logo on the breast, he had on a t-shirt. There was an image of a snarling wolf made from a wave. He crossed his arms over his chest. The t-shirt was tighter than the polo had been, and she was right when she thought he had an impressive set of muscles under the fabric. The sleeve curled up more and she saw more of the tattoo, eager to see the rest. From what she could tell, it was also a wolf. He took the concept seriously.

His gray eyes swept over her, up and down, and Dany thought she was getting an x-ray. She awaited his judgment nervously, wondering if he was going to send her off. Or call the police on her. “You’re determined,” he finally said.

She slumped a bit in relief. “Well I am a Targaryen.”

“That’s a word for it.”

“What? Targaryen?”

Jon smirked; this time she felt her stomach do a somersault, as the smirk was hotter than even that little smile she’d received yesterday. _Gods, he is so hot._ She licked her lips, brows lifting, silently challenging him. He sighed, stepping aside and removing the rope that blocked the gangway to the boat. “Come on then.”

She skipped right by him, throwing another grin over her shoulder. “So it is just us today, huh? No Satin?”

“I gave him the day off. I figure you know where he is better than I do right now.”

“He’s probably under Loras right about now.”

“Satin’s a top.”

Dany frowned, wondering how that worked, as Loras was too. She shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“Satin doesn’t do long-term anything, I hope your friend is okay with that,” Jon called.

“Neither does Loras, so they’re perfect for each other.” She watched him unraveling the ropes anchoring the boat to the dock from the pylons and various connections on the dock. She didn’t know the first thing about boats. “Do you want some help?”

“You didn’t pay to also be the deckhand.”

She chuckled, setting her bag on the deck, reaching in to take out her sunscreen and her book, dropping them onto the bench where yesterday Missandei had made camp. She shrugged off her shirt, noting that he stole a quick glance at her chest; it was so fast she barely noticed. _But it’s there_ , she thought with a grin. “I didn’t, but I can be whatever you want.”

“Just be you.”

Her smile faltered. There was a strange way he said that, quiet and not a comeback at all. She tugged her lower lip under her top row of teeth, worrying it and watching him throw ropes around. They were free a moment later and he moved over to the helm, powering up the engine. He grabbed his sunglasses and put them on, his dark curls loose around his head today. The wind caught them, pulling them from his face.

Something farther south than her belly clenched; Dany couldn’t be sure, but she might have had a tiny orgasm from the sight of him, standing wide-legged at the helm, the wind pulling those springy curls and the shirt rippling around him. It came up slightly around his hips, exposing his taut stomach, a faint dark trail of hair leading from his navel down beneath his low-riding cargo shorts. It was clear he didn’t have anything on beneath them.

 _Gods_ , she thought, blinking away tiny little dots from her vision, chalking it up to the fact she hadn’t gotten laid in months. Today her hair was in a series of complicated braids, so she wouldn’t have to worry about it when she got in the water. Instead of fussing with it, she took a seat next to him, leaning an arm over the back of the plush leather chair, gazing out at the water as they hit the open sea.

The day before they had hung a right when they left the marina, towards the Green Grotto. This time; however, they swung left. She didn’t panic, but her heart quickened a little, fingers gripping the leather underneath her bum. “Where are we going? Not the grotto?”

“I have a different place in mind.”

She stared ahead, the sea open to them, nothing on the horizon but the sun. The cliffs faded behind them, as he headed away from the island, the engine roaring and the wind blowing hard as they sped off. She yelled over the din, joking only somewhat. “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

Jon Snow turned around from the helm and to her shock, his lips had curled into a wolfish smile, revealing sharp even white teeth. The look stole her breath away, catching in a strangle in the back of her throat. He laughed, shaking his head. “No Daenerys, not today. Sit back. Enjoy the ride.”

Dany licked her lips, leaning farther back into the seat, and drew her legs up underneath her, wrapping her arm around her ankles and watching the world open up in front of her. _Oh I certainly intend to._

* * *

They sped around the island itself for a bit, before Jon cut into an inlet, powering the motor down and coasting slowly through the shallow waters. It was closer to a jungle in this part of the island, which surprised Dany. She loved the Summer Isles because they could be anything and everything at once. You could visit each one individually and see a different piece of history and culture and landscape. She had shrugged off her shirt and slathered on some sunscreen, but still felt hot and sticky, gazing around at the vibrant green foliage and bright flowers, everything reflecting in the still clear water like a mirror image.

It was rather breathtaking, something she hadn't even noticed the day before when they were hitting all the major tourist spots. She didn't think she even realized just how _pretty_ this place was, too busy dealing with her friends and thinking about things outside of the so-called vacation. Yesterday had mostly been about upping Margaery. And figuring out Jon Snow's deal.

She hand her hands on the side of the boat, looking down at the water, the fish skimming near the surface, unperturbed by the disturbance. She surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder. He was lazily leaning on the side of the boat, one arm draped over the wheel and the other lifted up, holding onto the awning. They hadn't spoken much, the wind and the sound of the engine too loud to hear over.

Now it seemed alright to change that. "So where are you taking me?" she asked, pushing away from the side. She went back over to him, taking the seat in the captain's chair, spinning slightly in it, smirking. "Are we even in the Summer Isles or have we journeyed all the way to Ulthos?"

"Just up ahead, not far."

More smirking. "You're not one for words, are you Jon Snow?"

"I speak when I need to speak." He fixed his curious gray eyes on hers. They shined in the sunlight, alternating between gray, black, and briefly they just looked like a mirror, as reflective as the crystal water of the inlet. He smiled, briefly. "We're almost there."

Dany turned to look ahead, shaking her head slightly in amazement. "This place is so beautiful."

"Not quite as beautiful as the North, but yes, it has its own beauty."

"I find the North to be too harsh."

"Parts of it are, yeah," he agreed.

It was the longest he'd spoken to her since she first set eyes on him yesterday morning. She chuckled. "I'm not a fan of it, honestly. The people are rude."

"They are, but so are Southerners." He cut the engine even further, until they were simply puttering along, so slow she wondered for a moment if they'd just stopped. He shrugged. "North, South, East and West, they're all the same in the end. Just people who think they're better than everyone for one reason or another. History, blood, family, money, whatever. It means nothing." He glanced to her again, voice soft, husky. "It's about who you are deep down that matters, not names or the size of your bank account."

Jon might as well have just given her a twenty-minute soliloquy, rattling on and on, for as much as he'd spoken at the one time. She blinked, her mouth falling slightly ajar, and a spark in her belly lighting. He said it with such a casual dismissiveness. Accepting that the world did not operate the way he thought it should, but he would continue to just behave how he wanted to behave. She snapped her jaw closed, shaking her head from side to side slowly, sizing him up. She finally smiled again. "You don't like me."

It came out suddenly. It wasn’t what she wanted to say. She was going to ask him about the North again, bring up how every single time she went there people practically spit at her feet, hating her on sight because she was a Targaryen. They blamed her family, wealthiest in Westeros, for all their problems. Except this statement was about her, and her alone. Nothing to do with family or where they came from.

His eyes narrowed, a line forming between his dark brows. "I don't know you." He moved away from the helm, coming to stand in front of her. She let her legs fall open to either side of the chair, her hands dropping to her knees, leaning forward slightly as he stepped into the space she made. He reached forward and flicked a stray silver curl from her forehead and then wiped at a smudge of sunscreen on the edge of her cheek.

Her breath quickened, trying to screw up her eyes to watch as he took the bit of sunscreen and dropped it to her chin, dragging it down her neck to pause at the hollow of her throat. _Oh gods_ , she thought, her heart racing. She was surprised he didn't even hear the damn thing, loud as it was in her head. The gray irises around his pupil darkened to black and his lips parted, pink and plump, and he darted his tongue out to dab at them. He was thinking of something. She wished she could read his mind.

Dany was about to ask him what he was doing, what was he even thinking, when he whispered. "We're here."

"Huh?" she blurted.

She hadn't realized that while he was studying her, they'd coasted into a beautiful lagoon. It looked like a movie set. Gorgeous pink, orange, and yellow flowers cascading from tall trees with lush verdant fronds and leaves. Ropey vines hanging from the thick trunks and branches, all of which seemed to form a roof over the lagoon, which was rocky on the edges, blue and clear, a little series of waterfalls casually taking the water from somewhere up in the hills and mountains down into the pool.

It was so beautiful Dany almost wanted to cry. So peaceful, just the trickling of the water, the calls of birds somewhere in the jungle, and the waves from the current lapping gently along the rocky edges of the shore. The wind was rather calm, rustling here and there, and Dany wanted nothing more than to see if the water was as perfect as it appeared, the urge to just dive straight to the bottom so compelling she almost climbed up and over the edge of the boat right then and there.

She laughed, soft, gazing around the secluded area. "Gods this is gorgeous," she breathed, unable to stop herself from laughing louder, covering her mouth with her hands, feeling a little foolish to be so overwhelmed by something as simple as a damn lagoon.

Jon watched her from the side, his face softening a bit, no longer as harsh as it had appeared all yesterday and even a bit that morning. He smiled again. She thought he needed to smile more, he had a very nice one, a little crooked, revealing his front too teeth which were slightly overlapped. He wasn't perfect at all, which she liked, despite initial appearances as a walking marble statue, smooth and sleek. "Yes," he whispered. "Gorgeous."

Dany moved over to the back of the boat, peering down, giggling when she saw a sea turtle lazily making its way along the bottom of the lagoon. They were visitors here, this belonged to nature. The Summer Sea, they called it, and she believed yes, it was perpetually summer here. She turned to gaze back at him. He was tugging his hair back from his face, muscles flexing in his arms. She nibbled her bottom lip. "Why didn't we come here yesterday?"

"Because it's a secret place, I don't take just anyone."

The pulse between her legs quickened. She rubbed her thighs together, to stave off the desire. "Oh?" she echoed, no longer feeling as cocky as she had all yesterday. He disarmed her. She wasn't sure when it happened, but Dany no longer felt like she could just grab and take now. She always had before...what changed?

"I'm game if you are."

She whipped around, confused. "Huh?"

Jon walked over to her, reaching down to thumb at the button of her shorts. His dark brows lifted. "Sex," he said.

 _What the bloody seven hells is he talking about?_ "Sex?" she echoed. She was so confused.

He chuckled, his fingers slipping between the waistband of her shorts, to move along the edge of her bikini bottoms and cup at her arse cheek. a tiny gasp slipped her lips. _Oh yes_ , she thought, unable to believe this was happening. It was what she'd wanted all yesterday. The entire reason she was here. She tilted her hips towards him, bumping his, pleased to see his body reacting accordingly. He used his free hand to lift up to slide under her arm, splaying over her shoulder blades. He was so warm, surrounding here, and Dany found it quite difficult to breathe. "Yeah," he rumbled. He grinned. "Sex. What two people do when they are attracted to each other. I thought about it and I'm game if you are." He cocked his head, giving her rather patronizing look. He clicked his tongue. "Unless of course you were just fucking with me. All heat but no fire?"

All that teasing yesterday, dropping her damn top like a fool, resorting to using stupid innuendos and Margaery Tyrell level flirting and here he was turning it back around on _her_?! Dany wanted to scream.

She stuttered, probably turned red and not from the sun beating down on them. "But you...I...yesterday..."

He shrugged, reaching his finger up to fiddle with the strap of her bikini. Her eyes closed, trying to focus, but there was too much going on. The rock of the boat, the sound of the water and wind and cawing birds, and the sensation that he was _just so damn close to her._ His breath rasped, sending the strands of her hair around her face fluttering back towards her ears; she inhaled and realized he smelled like salt water, the faintest bit of cigarettes, and cinnamon gum. "I'm sure Satin already told you, he likes to warn the women, but I don't sleep with clients." His brow arched, nose wrinkling, the concept distasteful.

Dany quirked her lip up, amused. She sought deep, the fire always smoldering in her, but this time she fanned it, and it raged up. "So what makes you suddenly so interested in me now? It can't possibly be my good looks; they were there yesterday."

Jon shrugged. "I noticed them yesterday."

"Oh I know. You weren't as smooth as I think you thought you were."

He chuckled. "Got me there." His eyes danced. He flicked his fingers down her exposed abdomen, to play with the button of her shorts again. "Maybe it's this bikini that's doing things to me."

"I was in a skimpier one yesterday."

"Could be I'm as bored as you."

She licked her lips. "I'm not bored."

"Really? A rich socialite comes to the Southern Isles and tries to seduce a boat captain?" Jon tsked. "It's the beginning of a porno or cheesy romance novel."

"I wouldn't know, I clearly don't partake in those as you do."

He laughed; it was warm and sent the fire bursting out into her nerve endings. Gods, it made her want to kiss him, seeing his eyes crinkle, the way he shifted from this cold emotionless drone to someone who had a sense of humor. A strange sense of humor, but at least there was one there. He shrugged again. "Maybe it was your determination."

"I am always determined."

"You're a Targaryen, isn't that what you said?

"And you're a Snow," she retorted. She didn't know what she meant by that. It was a derogatory last name for men and women in the North, given to them eons ago when their highborn fathers and mothers had them out of wedlock. No one in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms used them anymore, but some still carried them on as family names, like Satin did, she guessed.

Annoyance flickered across his face. Before Dany could apologize or try to fix her mistake, it disappeared, and he was casual again. "I am a Snow, yes." He shrugged. "And I'm bored and so are you and isn't this what people do on vacations? Casual sex with strangers and locals?"

"I suppose."

"Me too." He grabbed her by the waist, hauling her against his hard body, and she gasped, mouth falling open in startled bewilderment, his lips crushing against hers. She eagerly met his prodding tongue with hers, open-mouthed, and groaning softly. He slid his tongue along hers, languid and slow, slowing her down when all she wanted was to rush right in. She groaned, sliding her hands over his chest, wondering about the muscles underneath, if they felt as warm as they did now. She arched her hips into his, rubbing against the hardness she felt against her cunt, which he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to. He slid his hand down, cupping her arse cheek underneath her bikini bottoms, lifting her up onto her toes.

He moaned into her, quiet, any pretense of being unaffected by her presence long gone. His mouth angled over hers, seeking more, which she happily provided, their hands and fingers sliding and snaking, looking for exposed skin and exploring the other’s body, mapping dips and ridges for later. The need for oxygen finally forced them apart, reluctantly, and Dany pulled from him, heaving for air, feeling faint. It was hot already, now the air was positively stagnant, filled with lust and need. Dany needed to stave this off before she lost herself completely; she didn't want to give him full control. She gripped the knot at the back of his head again, fiercely kissing him again, but he didn't have a chance to deepen it or respond, before she jumped backwards, laughing.

She teased him sliding the shorts down her slim legs and kicked them at him. "I'm not that easy of a lay you know." She reached up to her bikini straps and let them fall, giving him a full look of what he'd already seen the day before. Except this time she also lost the bottoms, and as naked as the day she was born, she ran by him to the edge of the boat and leaped off, executing a perfect swan dive into the crystal water.

It was refreshing, immediately cooling her skin and somewhat putting a chill on her desire for the man. Yesterday she would have dragged him into the cabin and jumped his bones with everyone watching. The chase had ended, he was in this with her, and they had the entire day. Now she wanted to savor, to taste and to enjoy. Once she got her hands on him that would be it, she wouldn't go back to him again, she would fly away to Westeros and only have a story to tell about the hot Northerner she'd dicked down on her vacation. Perhaps even something to share when she wanted to rub Margaery's nose in it.

And there was a tiny bit of her that just wanted this for her. No one would ever know what happened, just her. She liked that idea too.

She surfaced, pushing her hands over her face and hair, laughing and splashing water up at him. "Get in here! It's amazing!" It was glorious, the water lapping around her. She ducked under again, expecting him to splash in after her, but he didn't. When she came back up again, she was annoyed, treading water and lifting herself a bit so he could see her tits bobbing gently at the crest of the water, her nipples tight and furled from the chill. "What's your problem? Not scared of a little fish coming up and biting off your cock?"

He smirked. "A little fish can’t bite off my cock. Big fish, maybe."

 _Oh fuck..._ She flicked water at him again. "Then get in and show me."

"I’m' not too concerned about the fish, but I am concerned about the crocs."

Dany screamed, hands floating at her sides smacking onto the surface of the water, panicking. Adrenaline surged inside of her, propelling her into a breaststroke that was probably the fastest she'd ever executed, even when she was on the swim team at her prep school. She launched herself up onto the back of the boat, coughing out water stuck in her nose and thought. She wiped the back of her hand over her nose, staring out at the pristine water. "What the fuck? Crocodiles!? Why didn’t you say anything!"

Jon leaned his hip against the side, dropping a towel over her shoulders. She clutched it around her, still sputtering. "I didn't think you were going to jump right off into the water," he said dryly.

She squinted at the water, along the edge, and didn't see any indications of crocodiles. "Are you sure?"

"Saw some once."

"But not now?" She saw another turtle spiral by her. She whipped her hair around over her shoulder, darkly glaring. "You're a fucking liar."

"Maybe."

"Arsehole!"

His grin should have been smacked off, sinful and devilish. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

"I could kill you." _Or kiss you._

"It was worth it."

She sulked, towel wrapped around her, sitting on the leather bench nearby while he powered the boat back up. "Well why did you even bring me here?"

"To show you the wildlife."

He really had a thing for that, she thought, remembering yesterday when he'd bypassed checking out her fantastic tits for the stupid shadowcats in the trees. Wryly, she eyed him. "You are a bit of a dick, you know that?"

"Yes," he replied cheekily. He dropped his sunglasses down over his nose. "You're easy to tease."

"Shut up." Her cheeks warmed a bit, pleased to hear him say so, even if she disagreed. It meant he cared. She shook out her braids, lifting her face up to the sunlight, basking in it. "You just wanted to look at my body."

"I was always going to look at your body, you didn't need to show me."

There was such conviction, she stared at him momentarily, figuring out how best to reply. She chose not to say anything at all. If asked, she would never admit it was because she was speechless. Except she was speechless. Jon Snow, quiet and sullen, the only man who had never checked out her chest when it was presented so obviously to him, had shut her up. He was pleased too, smugly smiling. She shoved her sunglasses on. She'd deal with him soon enough.

They took another few sharp turns, passing a few boats here and there. She went down into the cabin to put her bathing suit back on, in case they ran into other people. She only wanted him to see her, not a bunch of drunk tourists. When she emerged again, with freshly made mint vodkas, she passed one to him and he took it without a word, sipping at the straw, his teeth snapping wolfishly on it.

She leaned on his shoulder, tugging at one of his curls. "When'd you get down here?"

"Earlier this summer. We're almost there."

"Where are we?"

"Indigo Straits."

"How long have you been here though, you clearly know your way around." She didn't want to know too much about him This was just a fling. If they were going to be together all day, she did want to at least get a bit of some of her questions answered.

Jon shrugged, speaking with his teeth still clenched on the straw. "Off and on every year since was a kid. North gets cold. I like the cold. But not all the time."

She ran her finger along the neckline of his t-shirt, peeking to see the ink that she could now see through the thin material. "What's your tattoo?" She poked further, eyes lighting up at the beautiful artwork curling around his shoulder and over onto his collarbone and around his shoulder blade itself. "Oh wow, that's so cool." It was of a white wolf, snarling, eyes red and claws tearing down into the skin, ravens exploding forth from where the claws tore through. A branch with red leaves and a sword crossed, the sword piercing into the same skin. She wondered what it meant. Clearly something.

"We're here," he announced, cutting the engine.

The tattoo had distracted her from where they'd been going, She looked around; the lagoon he'd brought them to was even smaller than the other one, far more intimate. There were bigger waterfalls than the previous one, crashing into the water, and cliffs cocooning them inside the canopy of flowers and trees. She was about to ask where exactly in the Indigo Straits they happened to be when he stood up and in one fluid movement pulled off his t-shirt, tossed it to her and then went into the water, a lean, long blurry line arcing into the water.

He barely made a splash, as quiet diving as he was in everything else. Dany threw the t-shirt down and hurriedly pulled at her clothes, eager to join him, when she noted with a tiny squeal of excitement that his shorts had remained behind. _And I missed it!_ she inwardly screamed, throwing her bikini top away and ran towards the back of the boat, laughing as she jumped in after him.

When she surfaced, she found him treading water a bit away, closer to the waterfalls. He ducked down under again, coming up a moment later, and when he did, Dany was sure she had another orgasm, this one courtesy of the sight of him standing in shallow water, the cool blue lapping at his waist, drops streaking down his chiseled abdomen and muscled arms, his dark hair slicked from his face and hands sliding over it. He turned towards her and she could see why he hadn’t taken his shirt off yesterday; had probably been avoiding it.

Scars sliced across his beautiful body, puckered and pink. She gasped, surprised, hurriedly swimming towards him. He said nothing, waiting for her to get closer. He watched her carefully, her fingers darting to touch the one over his heart, the worst one. It quivered, when he chuffed. “I was in the military. I’m not anymore.”

“Gods, you could have died.”

“I did, for a bit.” He took her hand from his skin, their wet fingers sliding together. He dipped back under the water, to his shoulders, and moved backwards from her. “It doesn’t matter. Part of why I’m here.”

Dany got the hint, which wasn’t subtle, to not ask any further questions. She chided herself as well, since this was supposed to be sex and fun on vacation. Blowing off steam and nothing more than that. She looked up at the waterfalls, amazed at how pristine everything was. “This place is beautiful. I could stay here a thousand years.”

“We’d be pretty old.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, well. Maybe we can last forever here.”

He smiled, pushing his arms forwards to propel him back. She tried to ogle him, to see beneath the surface of the rippling lagoon, but everything was wavy and courtesy of the black rocks underneath them, difficult to see. She scowled and lunged towards him, but he dove underneath with a laugh. She scowled, following.

They swam for a bit, with him grabbing her around the waist and terrifying her at one point. She tried to do the same, but Jon had eyes in the back of his head. He always knew where she was. She finally came up for air, after trying to beat him down to the bottom of the lagoon, pushing her braids out of the way over her shoulder, when he popped up in front of her. She gasped, mouth open, in time for his to cover hers, and his arms sliding around her body, drawing her towards him.

The water was cold, from the freshwater in the mountains pouring down in the waterfalls, but he was warm all over. The sun helped, but she still shivered, pressing her body to him, and her legs slipping between his. One of his hands held her neck, keeping her mouth on his while they kissed, heated and intense. The other tracked under the water to cup her arse again, give it a light squeeze, and the moan she emitted turned louder, as the hand pushed between them and feathered over her slick cunt.

She tore herself from him, gasping. “Fuck!”

“That’s the plan.”

He kissed her again, over and over, as he slid his fingertips over the puffy folds, pressing forwards and against her, where she was hot and slick, and had been for a while. She thrust against him, jerking into his hand, groaning. He rubbed at her, teasing, and she was going to scream, when he slipped a finger into her. “Jon,” she breathed, raspy. She closed her eyes, head falling backwards. He took the opportunity to suckle her pulse, teeth nipping sharply along her jawline. “Oh gods, yes there.”

“You want some more?”

“Fuck yes.”

He pushed another finger in and she rode his hand, his fingers in all the way to the second knuckle, pulsing inside of her like she hoped his cock would soon. She opened her legs up and wrapped them around him as best she could, bopping in the water. Her nails dug into his shoulders, holding tight. His upper body strength was incredible, keeping them there, as he fucked her and within moments, his thumb circling and teasing at her clit, and his tongue in her mouth, crudely mimicking what his fingers were doing to her, she came, shattering around him.

Her body tensed and squeezed his fingers, her mouth gasping on his. He licked her upper lip, grinning. “Wait until it’s my cock. Or tongue.”

“Oh fuck,” she mumbled. She had never come like that just from fingering before. She pulled her face back to stare at him momentarily. The gray in his eyes had disappeared, pupils black and fat, drowning them. She grabbed his curls, yanking his face to hers, and kissed him so hard his grip on her slackened, trying to hold onto her.

They swam back to the boat, and she climbed up first, turning to finally get her first look at Jon Snow naked. It did not disappoint. She was right about his body being beautiful, in all its entirety. His torso narrowed at his hips and she took in strong thighs and calves, and the loveliest cock she’d ever seen, long and thick, proudly standing out. Her mouth watered, wanting it inside of her. Mouth or cunt, she didn’t care. She got a look at the back view when he turned, to get her a towel, and almost had to sit down.

His arse was the most glorious thing. Hard, smooth, and as plump as a peach. She wanted to bite it. “That was something Jon Snow,” she managed to get out, when he ruined the view by tying a towel around him. She took the one he handed her but didn’t do a thing with it. Instead, she laid it behind her and moved for his, dropping it to the deck. Her eyes locked on his. “It seems I owe you for that.”

He smiled. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“But I want to.”

It was the last words she said before she took his cock into her mouth, moaning around it, as it was as perfect as she’d imagined. Dany never sucked dick, finding it distasteful and she’d never had men she’d wanted to really. Once or twice, sure, but she’d never _wanted_ it like this. She wondered if Jon Snow had some sort of spell over her, to want to give up on just conquering him and instead want to spend the entire rest of her vacation in his company, and to find out if all of him tasted as wonderful. To find out if he was as good with that snappy tongue as he was with his fingers.

She fisted him in one hand, the other gripping into his plump arsecheek. She ran her tongue around him in time with her fist, her soft moans around him mingling with his pants and groans, and the sinful sound of her mouth slurping at him. His fingers gripped her braids, tugging on them when she did something he liked; whether on purpose or not. She delighted in making him feel out of control, suspecting Jon Snow rarely enjoyed that pleasure.

“Fuck Dany,” he grunted.

 _Yes, soon enough._ She hummed her approval, and grinned when she felt the first signs that he was about to explode into her, his body tensing and hips jerking. His cock throbbed, hot and hard as steel, and she pulled her mouth off long enough to look up at him, pre-cum and spittle staining her lips and chin. She locked her eyes on his, watching the emotions play out on his face, the crease in his brows and his arms tensing, still holding onto the back of her head. “You want to come?” she asked, kissing his cock lightly. She grinned. “Or should I leave you like this?”

“You’re fucking evil.”

She grinned. “I am.”

He growled, pulling her head back to his cock and she gladly took it back into her mouth, finishing him off within moments. He groaned, grunting her name and she stilled him briefly, when he thrust hard against her, to keep from choking. She swallowed up every bit of him, salty and musky. He let go of her braids, an eyebrow lifting, and looked down at her again, his cheeks flushed and not from the sunlight. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want, and I wanted to do that.” She kissed his cock again, letting it fall from her lips and hands. She stood, still a little uncomfortable, and draped herself against him. She grinned. “I get what I want.”

He chuckled. “I suppose we’re even.”

“It’s not a game.” _Anymore._ She lifted her brow. “I want to fuck you.”

“Not yet.”

That startled her. She drew back, scowling. “What?”

He kissed her forehead, hand running over her wet braids. “Not yet. Soon enough.” He picked up the towel again and wrapped it around him, padding away towards the entrance to the cabin. He went down he steps and turned to look at her, grinning. “And you’ll wait.”

“Oh I will?”

“Yes.”

“And how do you know that?” Dany was annoyed; she very ell could make him turn this boat around and take her back to the island.

“Because you get what you want, and you want me.” He disappeared into the cabin, leaving her to scowl at where he’d gone, and he popped up a second later, holding two bottles of beer. He cracked the caps on each, handing her one. He’d also put on a pair of shorts, these one aqua colored. They made his skin seem even paler and his hair blacker. He settled next to her on the leather seat, clinking his beer to hers. She said nothing, still pouting. He chuckled again, around the rim of the bottle. “You know how I also know you’ll wait?”

She sniffed, getting up and going over to her bag, taking out her book. “And how is that?”

“Because.” He got up again and went to stretch out on the deck, after draping a towel down, crossing his ankles and leaning his head on a pillow. He sighed, picking up his discarded sunglasses and put them on, all intents and purposes planning to take a nap.

Dany pulled on her button-down, but left off her actual swimsuit, going to lay down on the leather bench behind him. “That’s it? Just _because_?”

Jon shook his head. “No, because I want to fuck you too.” He slid his sunglasses down his nose, grinning up at her, teeth bright white against his dark beard. “And I always get what I want.”

* * *

To her disappointment, they didn’t fuck by the time they got back to the dock. Dany discovered she didn’t actually mind it the way she thought she would. After Jon’s declaration that he also got what he wanted, she’d been so surprised she hadn’t said a word. She chose to ignore him, to remind him she was _Daenerys Targaryen_ and he’d be regretting his decision to put off sex for now.

Except he clearly didn’t. He napped in the sun for a bit and then went into the cabin and emerged with food. She popped grapes into her mouth and flicked them at him, teasing him over his lily-white skin and the bit of burn on his shoulders and nose. He told her about growing up in the North. She told him she was from Crownlands, which he already knew. They chatted about nothing and everything, to her surprise, she didn’t actually want to rush into sleeping with him.

She read her book, and he read one of his. They went back into the water, and she kissed him as much as she could. He told her he had a dog named Ghost, a big white fluffy thing that lived up North. “Do you miss him?” she wondered, wishing she had something to miss as much as he seemed to miss this animal, judging from how his face softened when speaking about him.

He nodded, gazing to the waterfalls. “Yeah, I do, but I’ll see him soon.”

“How long do you stay down here?”

“As long as I want.”

They didn’t speak about anything truly personal beyond that. Anyone could find out what they wanted about her if they just did a quick Searcheros check. Jon didn’t speak of a family, didn’t speak about anything related to his scars or his tattoo beyond how Ghost was the wolf on his skin, the tree was the one in the yard of the house where he grew up, and he was in the military because he wanted to do something good.

“I want to do something good,” she confessed.

He smiled across the space at her, from where they were lying on their sides on the deck, sunning. “You don’t want to just be a rich socialite?”

She rolled onto her back, shaking her head, staring at the empty blue sky. “I like being rich, anyone who says otherwise is lying. It gets me things I want.” She turned and smiled, rather sad, not having thought about it in a while. Her brow furrowed, and she whispered. “But sometimes it would be nice to do something that doesn’t have people just thinking I’m a set of tits and pretty hair, you know?”

He dragged his fingertip over her tits, her nipples tightening, skin pebbling in anticipation. “They’re really nice tits.”

“I’m glad you think so. You seemed to not notice them at all yesterday.”

He licked at her nipple, chuckling into her skin. “You have no idea how hard I was. Thank gods for baggy shorts.”

She sighed, carding her fingers through his hair when he kissed along her breasts, nibbling the soft skin. “Oh fuck.”

They fooled around; she got him to bend the knee to her like she originally intended yesterday, when his magical tongue brought her to another intense climax, doing things his fingers had done in the water, but also making her insane with need. She was in the chair behind the helm when he’d decided to do it, just dropped right there in front of her and pushed her thighs apart, planting a kiss right over top her clit. She’d squealed, a foot going into the side of the boat to hold her in place while her other rested over his shoulder, stunned at his boldness. Although she didn’t know why.

Jon Snow was a mystery to her.

They ended up back at the marina, as the sun was setting, having spent the entire day boating around the Isles. He’d shown her more secluded lagoons, but nothing as beautiful as the one with the waterfalls. They snorkeled and she explored another cave. He took her to a temple over on one of the tinier islands, where she got to indulge in her love of history and culture. Jon Snow knew a bit about it all too, from living there as long as he did, he told her.

At the marina, she saw Qhono waiting, leaning against the car. She frowned; she didn’t want to leave him. They could spend the rest of the evening together. Go back to the villa. Whatever happened…would happen. She turned in his arms, nuzzling into his nose. “Come home with me,” she murmured.

“Hmm,” he mumbled, lighting kissing her. He sighed. “Tempting, but I unfortunately have a tour tonight.”

“What?”

“Yeah, night tours. People go diving at night, to see the bioluminescence. Stars and stuff too. It’s at midnight.” He pushed his fingers through her hair, now flowing free of the braids, still damp from their recent swim and kinked every which way from being in the braids all day. He twirled a lock around his fingertip, watching it curl and uncurl. Dany was pleased; he seemed reluctant to let her go as much as she didn’t want to let him go. “You did pay for me all day tomorrow.”

She laughed. “You sound like an escort or something.”

Jon smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Meet me here?”

Dany kissed him, promising him with the soft tug of her teeth on his lower lip and slide of her mouth atop his, she would be there. She eventually let go, and stepped backwards, or else she was going to push him back onto the boat and abscond away with him. She had to at least get back to the villa, to tell Missandei about _everything._

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


	2. summer memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany spend another day together; after her vacation, Dany heads North and finds quite a surprise...and she may have one of her own too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! This was supposed to be a smut fic, that's all. Ended up as this giant monster, no idea why. Enjoy!

* * *

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

Margaery’s accusatory tone irked her, but Daenerys didn’t give her the satisfaction. She shoved her book into her straw bag and slung it over her shoulder, satisfied she’d packed all she needed to pack. “On my private excursion, remember?” She walked out of her bedroom, sliding easily by Margaery. She tossed a smirk over her shoulder. “And it’s really none of your business.”

“Oooh, just two days ago you were all over that boat captain and now you’re being secretive? What gives?” Marg followed her downstairs to the kitchen, where Missandei was sitting at the table, munching some fruit. She wrinkled her nose. “How are you up this early?”

“How are you?” Missy retorted.

“I didn’t go to sleep yet. Loras and I went to this really cool club in a stone wall.” She sighed dramatically, tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder. “His little friend Satin had to work today, so I don’t know what we’ll be doing. Just sitting around I suppose. Dany’s running off on another mysterious day.”

Missy shot her a surprised look; Dany barely shook her head, warning her to stay quiet on it. She’d rushed home the previous evening, barged into Missy’s room, and between a bottle of very good Summer Isle’s rum, they chatted all about her day with the still mysterious Jon Snow. There was something nagging Dany about him, she couldn’t place her finger on it. She just knew that the few times he’d brought her to climax were the best ones she’d had in her entire life and she hadn’t even had him inside of her. The anticipation of that long-awaited moment sent shivers down her spine.

She fished her sunglasses out of her bag. “I’ll be back late.”

“Remember we’re going home tomorrow,” Missy reminded her, sympathetic. She cocked her head, a dark eyebrow lifting, quizzically. “Unless of course you plan to stay?”

It was just a fling; the fact she was seeing Jon Snow again surprised her. She’d hoped to have fucked him and tossed him aside by now, the itch scratched, not needing anything further. She could return back to the Crownlands, back to her Dragonstone fortress, and return to the life of a rich spoiled heiress, who was trying to get people to take her seriously. Rhaegar’s email last night reminded her if she wanted to be taken seriously, she had to show up in three days at the company’s annual shareholder meeting. Rhaegar held 52 percent controlling interest in Dracarys Group; she held the second spot at 40 percent. Normally she just passed all her decisions to Rhaegar, but this year she was going to be there, in the flesh, and actually start making a name for herself.

She knew she couldn’t stick around and keep fucking Jon Snow. She pursed her lips into a thin line. “I’ll be on the plane home.”

“Good, it’s getting too hot here and I haven’t found _anyone_ who wants to sleep with me, it’s abysmal.” Margaery twiddled her thumb over her phone, a hand on her hip. She was scrolling through her contacts, scowling angrily like they offended her. “I’ll give Robb Stark a call when I get back. He said that his father keeps trying to set him up with some Northern girls. Maybe he’ll be game.”

 _Robb Stark, the heir to the Stark Industries steel and mining company_ , Dany thought idly. She knew Margaery had had a longstanding thing with him for years. She frowned, wondering if Jon knew who he was, being from the North. The Starks were like gods and goddesses to those insulated people. She pushed it from her thoughts, checking the time. “I’m out of here. See you later.”

“Call me if you need me,” Missy reminded her.

Margaery waved. “Don’t call me, but I want details if you get into Jon Snow’s bait and tackle.”

Dany rolled her eyes, giving her friend the finger, accepting one in return. She left the villa, bypassing Qhono with the car for one of the bikes lined up for the villa’s guests. She wanted to feel the wind in her hair, the sea breeze…maybe it was yesterday’s boat trip that had her appreciating the finer things in life, she supposed. She hopped on, hoping she didn’t make a total fucking fool of herself, and ignored Qhono’s presence at a distance in the car. The bodyguard was necessary; Rhaegar and the Targaryens had plenty of enemies, but she also was glad for him because if she wiped out going down one of the rocky hills, at least someone would be there to take her to the hospital.

She giggled, bumping along the cobblestone, her thigh muscles protesting at the extent she pushed them, having not been on a bike in years. She felt like a little kid, sailing around corners and spiraling down, down, down to the marina. When she arrived at the SeaWolves dock, she found the boat from yesterday was no longer anchored, but a smaller one, newer and somewhat sleeker, was. She noted the name: _Ghost._ She chuckled, walking the bike over, calling out: “What kind of name is Ghost for a boat?”

“One that disappears,” Jon called, emerging from the cabin. Today his dark curls were bound back again from his face, ruddy from the sun yesterday. He climbed over to gunwale, where she waited to hop on. He laughed, pointing to her bike. “You rode a bike here?”

“I can ride a bike,” she defended.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t. Here, we’ll lock it up in the office.”

“Where’s the other boat?”

“Satin and my other guy Edd took it out. The Mormont family and another family combined for the day. Seems they still wanted to see the grotto even _after_ someone paid them off yesterday.” He arched his brow, accusing. She giggled, shrugging, not at all guilty. He didn’t seem to be sorry for it either, stowing the bike away and locking up the office. “Come on, I’ve got a place in mind for us today.”

Her stomach clenched, tingling. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You sure do love those,” she groused, taking his hands as he helped her onto the slightly rocking boat. She stumbled when she jumped down onto the deck, lightly gripping his t-shirt for balance. He brushed his nose over hers, drawing her gaze upwards. His gray irises had darkened to ebony. He lightly kissed her, drawing a soft moan from her parted lips. The day hadn’t even begun, and she was embarrassingly needy for him, reaching to the back of his head to anchor his mouth against hers.

They drew apart for breath, still pressing foreheads together. He teased, “You missed me.”

It would be foolish of her to admit her weakness, just throw it out there, but she blurted out. “Yes.” She pushed away from him, hoping he didn’t notice the slight flush in her cheeks. She dropped her bag onto the co-captain chair beside his, in the area she originally thought of as a cockpit, but he’d told her was technically called a bridge. “So let’s get going Jon Snow, I haven’t got all day.”

He laughed, tossing aside the ropes holding the boat to the dock. “Well we will not delay then.” Dany dropped her chin on her hand, elbow propped on the back of the chair, watching him work, breaking them free of the dock. He moved over to the helm beside her, turning on the engine, the boat powering up and pulling free a moment later. She waited for them to be a bit away from the marina when she called out, finally asking.

"So where are we going today?"

"Surprise."

She was honestly getting a little tired of the surprises, unless she was the one giving them. She slid off the chair and wandered over to stand behind him, her arms snaking under his. To his credit, he didn't flinch, just kept steering the boat, one hand on the wheel the other on the throttle. She noted that the engine seemed quieter than yesterday, the boat sleeker and smaller, but with more power behind it. It gave her a little shiver; kind of like her, she thought with a smirk. She danced her fingertips underneath his button-down shirt, stroking at his abs. Her forehead pressed between his shoulders and she placed a kiss over the fabric. "I don't know if I like all these surprises."

"That's too bad. I think you'll like some of the ones I have in store today."

"Hmm, like this one?" She pushed her hand beneath the waistband of his red swim trunks, glad to find there was nothing underneath. He turned his head towards her, lip upturned slightly. She rose on her tippy-toes to kiss him. He let her, craning backwards and down so he could deepen the kiss, while she fondled him, glad that a night apart hadn’t changed his body’s reaction to her presence, his weight warm and heavy in her hand, his cock responding eagerly, growing larger with every pump of her fist.

He broke away quickly, breath ragged. She grinned, pleased she could do this to him. "Might want to take your hand out of there."

"Why? Not like I'm scared of it."

"You should be."

"Well that's rather juvenile," she pouted.

He chuckled. "No, because Summer Isles coast guard patrols around here and unless you fancy an audience..." He nodded behind her. She whirled around to see a large boat, painted with the Summer Isles seal and 'COAST GUARD' along the hull. She huffed, removing her hand, but only because she didn't want to get arrested for public indecency. He kissed her, hard and swift. "Let's get out of the main channels first, aye?"

The 'aye' he occasionally tossed into his vernacular did things to her. Dany nodded, pushing away from him and exploring the boat, careful of her steps as he picked up speed, taking them away from Ebonhead. She went into the cabin discovering an overflowing minifridge and bar.

It was a bit too early for cocktails, even for Dany, but there were a couple bottles of cold brew, which she grabbed and took up to the deck, handing one to Jon. He took it and drained half of it in one go. "Impressive," she laughed.

"I like coffee."

"I guess you would, Northerner, needing to stay warm."

"More a holdover from the military."

Dany sat in the chair beside him, drawing her feet under her while she drank her iced coffee. He hadn't said anything about his military service beyond referencing it as a reason for the horrible scars on his chest. She reached her finger out, dragging it over the shaded area of his upper arm, seeing the tattoo through the thin white fabric. "Was it horrible?"

"Necessary."

"Sometimes that's the same thing," she mumbled, thinking of her obligations to Rhaegar and Viserys and Dracarys Group. She didn't elaborate, not wanting to talk about her issues any more than he wanted to talk about the military.

It was so lovely; she would have to think about purchasing something down here. A place to visit when things got too annoying back up in Kings landing. She eventually got up from her chair, going to stretch out on the leather bench built into the boat, behind Jon, her book in her hands. The warm breeze, the heavy weight of the book, and the plush leather underneath her almost drove her to sleep, but she kept her heavy eyes open, if only to watch Jon.

He was very quiet, Jon Snow, hardly making a sound when he moved. She had to check and make sure his chest still rose and fall and he wasn't some ghost standing there before her. After an hour or so, the engine powered down, the noise no longer rattling in her head, and she looked around, at the lush green of the island to their right. They were headed north, she realized, envisioning the map of the Isles in her head. "We came this way yesterday, didn't we?"

He nodded, bringing the boat around towards a shallow area, the water turning from dark blue to aqua. "Aye. There's a reef over here, I wanted to show you yesterday, but the water wasn't as clear as it is today."

She peered into the clear water, snorting. "Yeah right."

Jon chuckled. He moved around and she realized he was laying the anchor down. She popped upright. He opened up a chest and reached in, removing two masks and snorkels, holding them on his fingers. "There's a couple things you might like to see."

And there were—she wanted to see the other world that existed beneath the waves. Her excitement got the better of her, squealing. "Ooh! I wanted to do this, but Missy and Marge didn't." She got up, peeling off her tank, revealing she didn't have on a swimsuit underneath. It didn’t seem necessary to her when she dressed earlier.

He arched an eyebrow. "Interesting attire."

"Thanks, I made it myself." She posed, hand on her neck, crude and aggressive, sticking her tongue out and laughing at his smirk. She walked over, naked as the day she was born and took the mask and snorkel. "Come on, what are you waiting for?"

"Got me."

A few minutes later they were in the cool water, swimming towards the reef. It was quite something, to be free of a swimsuit while snorkeling, the water enveloping her in its coolness, but the sun warming down on her back. She smiled around her snorkel at the sight of the beautiful fish and coral formations below her, watching everything in this exotic otherworld just go about their day. She had her camera with her, snapping some pictures, not caring if they were any good. Out of the corner of her lens, she saw Jon, who’d dived down under the water.

She angled the lens and took a quick snap, just his face profile, knowing it would turn out better than all the others. He turned, waving up to her and she took a deep breath, sinking under the water to join him while he pointed out a few statues, sunken ages ago, covered in coral and other formations, fish making them part of the ocean. More photos later, she surfaced, blowing out water from her snorkel tube and pushing her mask up, laughing as Jon came popping up beside her. “That’s beautiful,” she said, swimming into his arms, her legs tangling with his. She beamed, thoroughly enjoying herself. “I can’t believe Missy and Marge didn’t want to see it.”

“There’s some more, a couple underwater caves too.”

They checked those out, until the sun hitting her back reminded Dany, she needed to reapply sunscreen. She was also tired of staring at Jon Snow, naked and swimming around her, having prolonged this enough. She told him so, by swimming straight to him and wrapping her fist around his cock again, her lips brushing at his ear. “Let’s get back on the boat,” she suggested.

He grabbed her face in his palms, the seawater dripping off them, and turning their kisses salty and damp. He mumbled against her mouth, “Fuck yes.”

They hurried towards the boat, Dany throwing the camera and their snorkel equipment up first. She grabbed him again, needy, forgetting they were still in the water, her legs wrapped around his waist and her mouth covering his, over and over again. They moaned together, unable to stop, bodies responding automatically to the sensations overwhelming them both, preventing either from getting back onto the boat. She was ready to fuck him right then and there in the water, her hips lifting and trapping his cock between his belly and her cunt, slick over the stiff length.

She dug her nails into his shoulders, not registering the sound of an engine, another boat approaching until Jon tore away from her. She was about to complain about his unceremonious departure from her, not focusing at all. “Fuck,” he cursed. She turned; eyes wide on the sight of the approaching vessel. Without saying another word, his arms went under her hips, lifted her arse and launched her straight up and over onto the boat.

“Argh!” she squealed, landing hard on the deck, skidding slightly. She peeked over the side of the boat, gasping just in time to see the boat from yesterday, Satin waving at the helm with a bunch of people looking over curiously. She looked down, acutely aware of her nudity. “Oh gods!” She yanked a towel around her, tying it off under her arms, and turned to help Jon up, but he’d disappeared. _What the fuck? Where did he go!?_ Her brain misfired, too many stimuli, hearing her name, and wondering where Jon went.

“Hey Dany!”

The pretty man from yesterday waved at her. She gulped, automatically waving. “Um, hi Satin!”

 _What the seven hells?_ She wheeled around a few times, not seeing Jon anywhere, concluding he must have dunked under the water to avoid everyone seeing him completely naked. She glanced at the other people who were on the boat, recognizing the family from yesterday she’d bought off, but they were joined by another group, a man, woman, and small boy. It seemed every single one of them had fucking cameras. _I will kill them all_ , she vowed, waving stupidly.

Satin smirked, gazing over at the boat. “So um, where’s Jon?” His blue eyes twinkled; he knew more than he should have.

“Um, the bathroom,” she lied.

Another member of the SeaWolves crew, a small wiry looking fellow, scowled. “Really?”

“I don’t know, too much coffee I guess.”

“Ah, well the Mormonts here and the Tarlys wanted to take in the reef, I was surprised to see Jon here.” Satin smirked, lifting his eyebrows. _Oh that fucker knows_ , Dany thought, glaring so hard at him she was surprised he didn’t just burst into flames. She certainly wished for it. “He didn’t say anything about snorkeling.” He picked at his perfectly manicured nails, droll. “I suppose we can wait for him.”

 _You will do no such thing._ “Yeah well, we decided to wing it.” She hurried, shifting on her feet. “No need to wait, we’re going to be leaving.”

“You seem to have lost your swimsuit,” the man from yesterday said to her, chuckling.

 _Perve_ , Dany thought, face twisting in disgust, and was glad the young girl with him thought so too. She mimed gagging. “Ugh, Jorah you’re so gross.”

“It was the salty water, I’m rinsing it,” Dany said, teeth grit. She began to panic; how long could Jon hold his breath before he had to surface and then what? They’d all see, including _children_ what exactly they’d been up to before the unceremonious arrival of these _stupid_ people. She was going to have Jon fire Satin for sure. He was just standing there laughing, completely knowing. She waved again. “Don’t let us keep you.”

“Hmm.”

If Jon emerged from wherever he’d been hiding, they would all know exactly what they were doing in the water. Dany tried to weigh the pros and cons of strangers knowing she was close to fucking Jon in the water when they appeared, but the cameras put her off, as did the presence of _children_. Ugh, they needn’t be traumatized. She chewed her bottom lip, realizing the larger man and woman were talking, heads bent, rudely pointed. “Ah, there were tons of turtles, over…over there…” She flung her hand out to the side, in some general direction.

The man called out. “Are you Daenerys Targaryen?”

“No,” she lied.

“Oh, I guess I thought…the hair and all.”

She forced a smile. “Just because I have silver hair doesn’t mean I’m Daenerys Targaryen. That bitch wouldn’t be caught dead down here in the Summer Isles. Would ruin her Valyrian skin. Have fun on your trip.” She added. “Bye Satin.”

Satin chuckled, calling out. “See you later.”

Noncommittal, Dany made a sound, waiting for the boat to putter off, before Satin turned, sticking his tongue out at her. She gave him the finger, and watched, vibrating, as they got away, and was about to drop the towel when that fucker Jorah turned around and waved at her. She gave him the finger too when he turned back around, and whirled, screaming: “Jon!”

Jon flung himself onto the boat, gasping and coughing. His eyes were bloodshot, nose running, and chest heaving with gulping breaths. “Fuck!” he rasped, hitting his fist against his chest. Dany fell to her knees next to him, patting his back and wrapping her towel around him. He fell backwards, his head pillowing on her breasts. He turned slightly, lips brushing a pebbled nipple. “Hmm…that might help.”

She lightly slapped his shoulder. At least he wasn’t completely addled from lack of oxygen. “Oh my gods! How did you do that?”

“I can hold my breath, lucky for me.” He kissed her nipple. Dany closed her eyes, humming appreciatively. He sagged against her again, eyes fluttering shut. His hand fell lightly over his abdomen, every muscle in his body cording and tensing with his deep breaths. She patted his back again, helping him cough out some water he’d swallowed. “I’m going to murder Satin.”

“You and me both.” She pushed his damp hair from his forehead, dropping a kiss there. She hummed again. “You did hold your breath a _very_ long time.” The implications stirred desire within her. She smiled against his temple, moving her lips towards his. “You want to show me that particular skill again?”

Jon chuckled, turning in her arms, pinning her down against the wet deck, water dripping around them, mingling with the slick desire seeping from her cunt. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and neck arching, offering her tits to his lips again. He kissed her, long and slow, but he was still trying to right himself, gasping a moment later. “As much as I would love to…”

 _No!_ Dany growled, irritated. “Why not?” she whined, petulant.

“Because those fuckers are still nearby. And I do not want any interruptions.” He kissed her once more, swiftly, pushing to his feet, towel wrapping around his waist. He apologetically smiled, stepping over her and whistling. “Soon enough Daenerys.”

Dany groaned, head hitting back to the deck.

* * *

Thanks to the fucking Mormonts and the Tarlys the mood was ruined and in order to prevent any further interruption, Jon booked it as far from the reef as possible. Dany ended up spending the next bit of the trip sitting in his lap, an arm around his neck, while he drove them off to somewhere else on the mysterious itinerary.

It was comfortable; he seemed fashioned for her. All hard muscles and ridges, her soft little body fitting perfectly in the groove of his hip and arm, her head on his shoulder and feet draped over the armrest of the captain's chair. He had a foot propped on the dash, the other stretched in front of him. Under the awning, they were protected from the sun, so he kept his shirt off.

Dany took the opportunity to trace his tattoo. It was beautiful work. "I should get a tattoo," she announced. She kissed the wolf above his pec. "Did it hurt?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

He chuckled. "There are other things that hurt worse, believe me."

It was comments like that that had Dany draw back to study him. He was something else. Certainly not the dumb boat guy she initially believed him to be. Her mistake, one she would admit to readily. She kissed him, playing with the damp ends of his curls, before settling into him again. He was so warm. She sighed. "You make a nice pillow Jon."

"You're a nice blanket, Dany."

They didn't speak, especially when other boats started popping up around them, moving into a more populated area. Dany frowned as rock formations began to take shape, to encircle them. She was going to ask where they were, when Jon cut the engine, slowly angling the boat into the rocks. He held his finger to his lips, pointing upward. Dany lifted her face, mouth dropping.

The stones were massive, blocking out the sunlight. There were other boats scattered about, tourists and locals alike, none of the motors going beyond a soft 'putt putt' to get them through. Dany wondered why it was so quiet, and then she realized why. Her eyes lit up, pushing off his lap and to the front of the boat, to hear it. "Wow," she murmured, listening.

Jon came up behind her and knelt on the pillows scattered in front of them, on the bow of the boat. He drew an arm around her waist, tugging her down next to him. She let her feet fall out, listening. The stones created an alley of sorts, the formations and the angles and gaps within them creating a haunting song, each time the wind blew through. It was as if there were dozens of voices, a chorus created from the rocks themselves. Dany grinned, leaning for her camera. She lifted it up and took shots of them, the light playing here and there as they moved slowly through the narrow inlets.

She knew what they were; didn't realize they would be able to see them. "The Singing Stones," she murmured, awed.

"I thought you might enjoy them."

"I do, yes." She turned, hugging her arms around his shoulders, dropping her chin to the perfect groove of his shoulder. She kissed the crook of his neck. "Thank you, Jon. It's lovely."

He smiled, rather goofy, eyes crinkling. “Good. I hope you like the rest too.”

He took her through the Singing Stones to the Isle of Love, which she thought was an appropriate place to _finally_ see what she'd bene missing, but unfortunately a lot of other people had the same idea. It was gorgeous and they docked long enough to get something to eat, and then hopped back on board again. He took her to Koj, one of the populated islands nearby, and to her excitement he led her down the narrow streets, a hand in hers, and straight to the Pearl Palace. It was a museum, ancient and filled with famous maps and papers, some believed to be from the libraries of destroyed Valyria.

"Oh holy fucking seven hells," Dany cursed, seeing the glass cases laid out before them. She laughed, trying to take it all in, the beautiful old palace and all the history contained inside of it. She spun on her heel, her flat sandals sliding on the old stone, grabbing his forearms and squeezing lightly. "How'd you know I'd like this?"

"The book you’re reading," Jon explained. He tapped her tote bag, slung over her shoulders, where her book stuck out. It was the history of the Summer Isles. He smiled quickly. "I saw it yesterday, made a few calls last night. Got us the entry passes here."

Her cheeks pinked. Only Missandei really knew of her love of history, her love of reading too. It wasn't like she hid it; it just wasn’t something people associated with her. Dany liked to keep them guessing about who she was. _But he noticed._ She hid her face, rummaging in her tote, making a show of looking for her phone. He thankfully gave her a moment, walking off to look at some of the other maps.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dany sized him up. He'd kept his hair tied back and after the last couple days she knew when he let go of the elastic, the curls would be all springy and coiled from being bound all wet. He studied the maps, his sunglasses tapping on his upper lip, an arm stretched over his stomach. He'd put on cargo shorts and another t-shirt and was wearing flip flops. He looked very bored, casual, and Dany could see the other women taking not-so-subtle looks at him.

She finished collecting herself and went over to him, looping her arm through his. "Thanks," she said. She shot a look to a group of co-eds who were gaping at them. A silver eyebrow arched. "You have a fan club."

"Hmm, I hadn't noticed. Look at this map of Valyria." He pointed to it, hidden under an amber light to protect the paper. "It has Old Tongue on it. Ancient Northern language. Why is that, you think?"

"I guess someone from the North put together a map of Valyria."

"It's interesting." He paid no attention to his admirers, walking right by them with her still holding his arm. He smiled; eyes gentle. "You don't need to be possessive Dany."

Guilt panged her. She tried to keep her face nonchalant. "I'm not possessive." She didn't like to share. They wanted to partake in ogling him, which she did not abide.

He hummed, disagreeing. Dany felt silly, but a quick glance at his face noted his gray eyes sparkled, amused rather than irritated. He let go of her arm and instead draped his over her shoulders, teasing his fingers under the strap of her tank-top, something a boyfriend would do. _Not a summer sex only fling_ , she reminded herself. She had no intention of ever seeing this man again. Didn't want to. It was just for fun. She repeated it multiple times. _Just for fun_.

She walked through the museum with him, both of them pointing out neat artifacts here and there. He was exceptionally well read, which she didn’t comment on, as she didn’t think it was worth commenting on. It was just interesting to her, this man she knew so little about and yet felt so connected with. They laughed, kissed here and there, and he took her through a marketplace where she bought a few souvenirs for Marg, Missy, and even Rhaegar. They ended up back at the boat after a bit and while part of her felt tired, exhausted from the fun, she was also wired.

They took off, heading south. She scanned through her phone and her camera at what she’d captured of the day. She hadn’t been obvious; just a couple of him, when he didn’t know she was looking. Or maybe he did. He had eyes in the back of his head. She was so busy going through the photos, she didn’t notice they’d stopped, until a hand rested on her knees.

Dany looked up, to see Jon in front of her. He took the camera from her, setting it aside. She reclined backwards, not saying a word, but her breath quickened, her fingers searching for purchase in the leather underneath her. Eyes locked on his, she didn’t blink, just followed his guidance. He unbuttoned her shorts and curled his fingers in the denim, tugging them over her hips. She lifted her hips so he could slide the shorts down her legs. His fingers were rough, but his touch overall gentle, guiding her feet back into place, spreading her legs open for him.

He danced one of his hands up under her tank and she reached over, pulling it off. She was nude under his perusal, his gray eyes black as pitch, his breath raspy. He leaned down and kissed just above her navel. Her belly quivered. She panted, whining. “Please.”

“Shh,” he whispered, lips warm and wet, planting gentle kisses around her navel, moving farther and farther towards where she wanted him the most. He skirted from her clit, throbbing, and rained kisses over her inner thighs, his fingers scraping up and down her calves, lifting her legs up and resting them over his shoulders. He looped an arm under her knee and around to hold one thigh apart, while his other moved closer and closer, until his fingers swiped up, from cleft to clit, gathering her slickness and beginning to spread it along her cunt, and finally to her clit.

An inhuman whine left her lungs, her head falling backwards onto the pillows. She lifted her knuckles her teeth, biting down while her other hand pressed to his curls. She was so wet, she could hardly feel anything, his fingers and tongue stroking over the seams of her cunt, her hips jerking automatically with every press and lap. The obscene sounds of his mouth over her competed with the pounding of blood in her ears for blocking out every other sound and sensation beyond what he was doing to her.

He flattened his tongue over her clit, on one of the several passes of his tongue over her, and she cried out. “Gods!” She grabbed his hair with her other hand, now pressing his face harder into her cunt. He rumbled a breath against her, the vibrations from his chuckle sending further pulses of need throughout her body. She rocked against him, mindlessly fucking nothing, her body spasming and twitching with every action of his mouth on her. When she began to lose control, the warmth in her cunt spreading out into her belly and her thighs quivering, he used the hand holding her thigh away from him to press onto her hip, keeping her from bucking completely off the bench and falling to the floor. She gasped, panting, and stared at him in mixed fascination and hatred as he grinned up, like a cat licking cream, his tongue flicking over her clit rapidly, drawing out the warmth from her body.

Her heel dug into the leather, knee drawn up, while her other pressed into his shoulder. “Jon,” she cried, his name several syllables long in the back of her throat. She couldn’t take much more. It was torture, the heat was just there, waves of it cresting and crashing, but not the one she wanted, each one growing larger, but she still wasn’t there yet. It was exhausting; sweat pearled on her skin, dripping down the back of her neck. She _needed_ him, more than anything right now. “Please, please.”

“Shh,” he murmured, although why he tried to shush her, she couldn’t understand. They were in the middle of the godsdamn sea. Her thighs clenched around his head, legs and ankles tangling together as she rutted mindlessly. He finally took pity on her and with a suck of her clit between his lush lips, his tongue doing things she’d never experienced before in her life, that massive tidal wave of fire crashed down over her, bathing her in its heat and glow.

She sobbed his name, her body twitching. His hand lightly stroked her thigh, a rather comforting gesture, while he still licked up her seeping slit. He didn’t waste time, standing quickly and wiping his forearm over his damp beard. She could hardly see; everything seemed to be flickering in little black, white, and red dots, her ears filled with rushing blood, and her body still trembled from the force of her orgasm. She cried out, reaching for him, gripping whatever she could. “Jon?”

He lifted her into his arms, and she found his mouth with hers, moaning at the taste of her cum on his lips, the sinful depravity of it all. He carried her, like a delicate doll, to the cabin, setting her down just long enough for her to duck under and into the inner part of the boat. Her knees could not support her weight, and she fell onto the bed, bouncing lightly on the plush mattress.

She scrambled backwards as he advanced on her, a prowling wolf, his eyes black and his lips curling in a smile that promised more than what he’d given her on the deck. Dany couldn’t think, her arms immediately around him, her foot lifting to stroke over the hard curve of his arse, toes pushing under the waistband of his shorts and sliding them down one of the beautiful globes, the other moving to the other. “Condom?” she barely got out, her mind fogging with need. Except she did remember that much.

“Fuck, hang on.”

The warm weight of him disappeared, leaving her heated body suddenly cool. She twisted on the soft duvet, her hand cupping her damp cunt, to keep the heat inside of her and her other hand pinching her nipple while she slid her feet together, moaning at the continuing sensations inside of her.

She heard him fumbling around the cabin, cursing here and there. “Seven hells!” he exclaimed.

“What?”

“Fucking Satin! I’m going to kill him. He took out all the condoms!”

Horror filled her. She gasped, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no!”

Jon fell onto the bed, his hands going to her knees. He shook his head, whispering. “I can pull out, I’ll just fuck you with my fingers, whatever you want.”

“No I need you, I have to have you,” she begged. It was very unbecoming of Daenerys, for she never begged for _anyone_ , but something about Jon Snow drove her insane, made her crazy and mad and threw out all rational thought. She sat up to her knees, her fingers finding him under his shorts, stroking and pumping, but he was already hard as steel. He groaned, tongue sweeping into her mouth, and fingers diving to hold her face to his. She shook her head again, whispering into him. “My bag. Check my bag.”

She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anyone move so fast. She giggled, falling back onto the bed again, spreading her legs and leaning on her elbows, waiting for his return. He flew down a moment later, his shorts off now, and in all his beautiful chiseled marble statue glory. There should be museums devoted to his body, Dany thought, idly stroking her cunt while he riffled through her bag.

He shook his head, mindless again. “Nothing here!”

“Check the inner pocket.” She prayed to all the gods she wasn’t sure she believed in that there was _something_ there, and to her delight, and his, with a triumphant cry, Jon ripped out four condoms on a strip from her bag. She had no idea how long they were there. She didn’t care. “Oh gods,” she moaned. “Fuck me, Jon.”

He moved up onto the bed, hands on her knees, tossing the foil packets over to the side. She stretched up, leg sliding to hook around his thigh, while he ran his hands up and down hers, studying her. The dying light from the sun flooded into the cabin from the windows along the edges of the ceiling, and in the light, he emitted an odd glow. She tugged her lower lip under her teeth, biting down nervously. _Why are you nervous Dany? It’s just sex._

_Right?_

The little voice squeaking in the back of her head said something about how it was scratching an itch. Having a bit of fun before she returned to boring meetings and pretending like she gave a damn about anything to do with the company. Or looking pretty at fashion shows and living up to the public’s opinion of her as a vain and vapid socialite. _That’s what I am_ , she thought sadly, staring at the man gazing down at her.

Jon didn’t view her like that.

He reached over to the side and picked up one of the condoms, tearing it open and moved to roll it onto his cock. “No,” she murmured, folding at the waist, sitting upright. She took it from him and without breaking eye contact, she ran her fingers slowly over him. He closed his eyes, head falling back, a rattling groan coming from his chest. His fingers idly pushed into her hair, knocking the messy braids away. She bent her head, giving him a long, languid lick from root to tip, her fingers moving in tandem with her tongue.

“Gods Dany,” he husked.

She hummed, kissing the tip of his cock one final time, sliding the condom over it. She reclined backwards, bringing him overtop her. Part of her wanted him to take her hard, fast, and desperately, like how she’d been feeling since she laid eyes on him two days ago. She moved to envelope him into her heat, and intended to do just that, except something shifted. She wasn’t sure what happened. Or when.

He was lying on his back, with her draped over him. She was kissing him, her hand on his side, fingers digging into the bump of his ribs, the other sandwiched somewhere underneath his back. He had a knee up and his hands on her cheeks, holding her face against his while they kissed, tongues sliding together, and moaning softly, their lips slipping over the others. His mouth was gentle, guiding, as were his fingers. She held him close, grateful for the warmth he provided.

Idly, she rubbed her slick cunt on his leg, rising up slightly so she could try to reach his cock, when he sat up slightly, leaning her back, their mouths breaking. They drew in sharp, rasping breaths, and with a soft “oh!” she was lying on her back, her head on the pillow. She let go of his lips reluctantly, as he drew back, staring down at her.

Dany wondered what sort of image she projected. She imagined her hair was spilled out on the pillow, braids crumpled and ruined, her chest rising and falling with every fast, shallow breath. Her lungs ached, but she wanted to kiss him again. She didn’t blink, looking into his eyes, and what stared back at her frightened her. Dany never got scared; it was part of the Targaryen genes. They were impenetrable. Except she was scared at what she saw looking back.

Not fear he would harm her, not physically. No. This was a different kind of harm. One she had long avoided, lucky to get out of various relationships and connections without any damage.

His fingers brushed over her hair, his breath deep and exhaling hard, and gray eyes liquid heat. He was settled between her legs, stretched out under him, and she lifted her knee slightly to accommodate his weight. The heavy length of his cock brushed her cunt, encouraging a soft moan from her. “Dany,” he whispered.

 _No, don’t speak._ She barely shook her head. He understood and his brow creased in a frown, before he swept her back up into a kiss. The tip of his cock nudged at her entrance, and she shifted her hips, lifting them as he pushed forward. His cock sunk into her gently, and with one swift move from them both, she sucked him into her body, his cock stretching her out. She whimpered against his mouth, fingers digging into his hair and shoulders. It had been some time. He was gentle, sliding slowly into her, and with one final snap of his hips, he was soon buried into her.

The hard thrust pushed her up onto the bed, her hands flat on his shoulders to keep her grip, lips breaking away just enough to exclaim in surprise. Until he was kissing her, mouth down her cheek and neck, breaths uneven. “Jon,” she whispered.

He exhaled her name. “Dany.”

She gripped him, snug inside of her, and she rocked her hips up, encouraging him to move. His cock dragged inside of her, pushing and pulling at her body, his hips moving slowly and thrusts shallow. Until they began to speed up, both of them encouraging the other, her neck bowing backwards. He grabbed her leg, hiking it up so her knee was almost to her shoulder, and hooking it over his elbow. He fucked her with the same intensity she saw him bring to everything around him. She cried out, nails digging into his back, curving red half-moons into his skin as he pounded into her.

Pleasure screwed her face up, her mouth open, moaning and babbling incoherently. Valyrian tumbled out of her lips, foreign to him no doubt. “ _Kessa, kessa, kessa,”_ she mumbled. _Yes, yes, yes._

Their bodies were slick with sweat, the cabin stuffy in the evening heat. Sweat dampened them both, adding an extra layer of friction and sensation, mingling with the wetness seeping from her cunt around his cock. She could hear it, muffled amidst the mind-numbing sensations of his heavy body over hers, the press of his fingers on her skin, the way his lips moved on her, and the feeling of him filling her so completely. Not an inch of her body was unattended, whether from his mouth, fingers or cock. He gripped her hip, pressing it down into the mattress as he lifted his up slightly, knees anchoring him to the bed as he began to drive into her with more force.

Her tits bounced against his chest, her eyes closed again, and she felt like she was somewhere else. In another universe maybe. The sensations were too much for her mind, it was practically shut down. The first signs of her orgasm came with the rippling squeeze of her cunt around his cock, the tensing of her muscles. “Dany,” he grunted. He held her down on the bed, and she squealed, shaking her head, trying to focus on the orgasm. The way she was going to fly over that precipice, and simply burst into flame. “Dany, look at me.”

His strained voice forced her eyes open. He lifted his fingers and touched her face, his thumb brushing her lips. She kissed it, watching the flickers of pleasure on his face. He began to grind his hips into hers, hard swivels, and she returned the movement with her own, her clit rubbing against his pelvic bone. She could feel it then, in how he tensed up. He was trying to hold off, to let her come first, and she did, as he kept at her, and she gripped around him, her lips parting, groaning and panting through the fire that burst into her.

It came in such long, angry waves, she could not come up for air. His palm pressed into the small of her back, almost lifting her entirely from the bed as he punched into her one final time, and then he was coming too, his forehead pressed hard on hers, and his fingers gripping her shoulder while his hand hit the pillow next to her head. “Fuck!”

He thrust, weakly, erratically, through his release. She squeezed around him again, still pulsing from the aftershocks and she knew he needed it too. He groaned, his cock twitching inside of her, and her arms and legs entwined around him. He panted into her ear, gulping for breath.

Their breathing slowly returned to a semblance of normalcy. She didn’t open her eyes. He lightly stroked her thigh, absentminded. She found herself doing the same to his cheek, feeling the coarse hair of his beard scratch her palm, and focused on it to bring her back to reality. Soon, he had to lift off of her to dispose of the condom, but when he returned, she took him back willingly.

She didn’t want to look into his eyes, she didn’t want to see what was shining back.

_I don’t want him to see what’s in mine._

He tugged her to his chest, inhaling her hair, nose pressing to her temple. She curled against his chest, affectionately stroking his scars, as she’d done earlier and as she’d done yesterday. The tattoos on his skin were practically black in the dim light. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep, and heard his breath change only for a moment. He drew in a breath hoarsely, and she thought he was going to speak. Whatever he planned to say, he didn’t. He exhaled and pulled her in closer.

Dany was cold, even with him around her, the sweat chilling on her skin. She closed her eyes tighter and drifted off, relaxed, and filled with contentment. Jon pulled a blanket over them, and she sighed, mumbling, the first words that came to her mind. “That was nice.”

The body beneath her shook with soft laughter. “It was.” He kissed her brow, idly dragging his thumb over her shoulder. “Go to sleep Daenerys.”

She smiled into his chest, nodding, and soon was out, her dreams filled with Jon Snow, even as she wished they weren’t.

* * *

The sun dropped clear over the horizon by the time Dany woke up, finding Jon still asleep next to her. In his sleep he was far more relaxed than he was walking around, even if there was a rather “meh” care to his attitude. He’d managed to be unaffected—outwardly—by her on that first day they met. She traced his nose with the pad of her finger, smiling as he shifted closer to her. She could see in the moonlight coming in through the portholes and from the boat’s runner lights that he’d gotten a bit more sun today.

She even checked on his arse, noting it too received some extra sun. “Poor thing,” she murmured, dropping a soft kiss to one of the cheeks. It flexed in his sleep. She chuckled; glad she could still affect him so even while unconscious. The growl in her stomach forced her up and she went in search of food.

Not long after she puttered in the kitchenette, did Jon come up to the surface of the boat with her. They spread out their picnic on the deck, propped up on pillows and blankets, eating fruit, veggies, and an assortment of seafood he’d picked up earlier in the day on one of their stops. “This is amazing,” she commented, fishing out a spiced shrimp from the bowl. “The food down here in incredible, I’ll miss it.”

“I get it from a guy who has a place down here, he’s a fisherman. Davos Seaworth, he’s got a distribution center up in the Stormlands, I can put you in touch with him.”

She laughed. “You seem to know everyone, Jon Snow. Getting tickets to the Pearl Palace, knowing the best seafood in Westeros.”

He offered her a piece of dragonfruit, which she snapped from his fingertips. “I get around.” He ducked his head, flushing. “Not like that.”

“Oh I know, you don’t sleep with clients.”

“No I don’t, I want you to know that.”

She cocked her head. _Why me then?_ Except she didn’t want to know. That would imply there was more to this than there really was. Just a sexual relationship for a couple days. They’d move on when the boat docked at the marina. Whether that was tonight or early in the morning, or whenever. She gazed up at the stars. Millions of them, not one bit of extra light source to block them out, like in Westeros. Even Dragonstone had too much going on, she couldn’t see anything out there. “It’s really very beautiful here.”

“I like it. There’s a lot in the world, but there’s something about down here.”

They chatted aimlessly, about everything and nothing, as they had the day before. The conversation was wave-top, never delving deeper to reveal anything beyond simple likes and dislikes or experiences. “When do you leave?” Jon eventually asked, topping off her glass of wine.

She sipped, shrugging. “Tomorrow. Or today, maybe. I have to get back.”

“Major conquering things to attend?”

A quick look sideways warned him. _No personals._ He closed his mouth, clearing his throat, frowning briefly. “Well I’m glad you had fun.”

“I had an amazing time. I wasn’t sure of it, honestly. I thought this place was boring.”

“Summer Isles aren’t boring,” he laughed.

She grinned. “So I have learned.” The wine slid down her throat, smooth and sweet. “When I get back, I’ll have to start planning my next trip down here.” The barest hint, hopeful, hung there. An apple at the end of a branch, waiting for him to take it. _And I can see you again, maybe?_ Thankfully, he didn’t touch it. Jon finished his wine and set the glass aside, moving over to sit beside her again.

“You got some sun.”

“As did you.”

“Hmm, my arse smarts.” He grinned, dark, waggling his brows. “And not just from those claws of yours.”

She snapped her teeth at him again. “Dragon.”

“Wolf,” he murmured over her mouth, his thumb pressing her chin down so he could angle over her. He smiled, chuckling. His breath tickled her nose. “You smell like shrimp.”

The mood ruined, she smacked his chest, laughing. “Shut up.” She kissed him, anyway, not giving a shit. She broke away a second later, glancing out at the dark, smooth expanse of the sea around them. The rising mountains in the distance. It called to her. She pushed to her feet. “Come on, let’s take a dip.”

They hopped into the water and she reclined against his chest, his arms looped around hers. They lazily floated near the back of the boat, almost drifting to sleep. Jon’s lips brushed the shell of her ear. “I don’t sleep with clients,” he breathed.

“You said that already. Couple times.”

“You just had to be yourself.”

She shivered; maybe it was the cold. The sun going down, the already chilly water. She swallowed hard. “I am myself.”

“Hmm, there’s Daenerys Targaryen.” He turned her face gently towards his. The moonlight glowed off him, an otherworldly specter. He might have been from another time. His brow wrinkled, head tilting. “And then there’s Dany. Just be Dany. Dany knows what she wants.”

_But do I really?_

She didn’t want to speak anymore. It was too much. So she kissed him again, turning and pushing him by the shoulders towards the boat. They climbed back aboard, and their kisses turned messier, passionate. They stumbled to the cabin. She giggled, her knees hitting the back of the mattress. “We’ll get the bed wet!”

“Like I give a fuck.”

They laughed, tipsy on each other. She fumbled for him, needing him inside of her urgently, a little scared at how badly her body wanted him. They didn’t take their time, roughly fucking, loud moans and groans and grunts, purely animalistic. She rode him hard, using the top of the upholstered headboard for leverage, chanting his name as he made her come multiple times, with his cock, his fingers, and later his delectable, sinful mouth.

At some point she realized there was an extra bit of moisture between her thighs, slipping from her already dripping cunt, but she paid it no attention, not after Jon got up and tossed away the condom. “Only one left,” he said, holding it between his fingers.

Dany grinned, reaching for him. “Let’s make it count.”

* * *

It had to end.

Daenerys knew that well enough. It was never meant to go beyond a fun fuck, an all-night sex session, whatever you wanted to call it, as she had reminded herself countless times that day. The fact it lasted longer than a day, that it had delved into something deeper than just "My name is..." or even beyond that alone was surprising. It terrified her. Now it had to end.

The sun was coming up by the time they got the boat into the dock. Neither spoke much on the trip back. She had a couple messages from Missy, wondering where she was and reminding her, she had to get back for their flight. _I know you don’t want to leave him, but you said yourself you have to get back_ , plus a frowning face. Dany told her she’d be there soon.

She climbed off the boat with Jon’s help, standing awkwardly on the dock while he collected her bike from the office. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Qhono waiting atop the cliff on the street, leaning against the car. The pleasant soreness in her body was welcome but would keep her from bike riding for a bit, she figured, leaning it against one of the dock posts. “So this is it,” she said.

“Aye.”

Dany sighed, smiling up at Jon. He smiled back. “Thanks for the private excursion,” she teased.

“Multiple ones.” He wrinkled his nose, teasing her too. He tugged at the edge of her tank top, guiding her closer to him. Their hips bumped in tandem with their noses. He husked. “I had a real good time.”

“Me too.”

“You’re not like the others Daenerys.”

 _Neither are you._ She hesitated; she wanted to ask him to come with her. Back to the villa. They could maybe take a shower together, have breakfast…except he shook his head, reading her mind. “IT’s better this way. Easier to say goodbye here than prolong it.”

“Yeah.”

“Next time you’re in the Isles…”

She laughed. “Of course. I’ll give you a good rating.” She winked obviously. “Jon Snow gives good tour.”

The warm, raspy laugh sent her toes curling in her sandals. “I’ll refund you for the last couple days.”

“I think I technically only paid for one. I did steal the Mormonts spot.”

“I’ll charge them twice for interrupting us.”

“You do that.” They were really dragging it out now. Dany reached up for him, the same time he leaned down to her. They shared a long, sweet kiss. She wished it wasn’t so full of sadness. _This really sucks._ He pulled away first, pushing her gently towards the end of the dock. She let go of the back of his neck, dropping her fingers to his, squeezing tight. “I’ll head up North, see if it’s as pretty as you say.”

Jon didn’t say anything. He nodded absently. He frowned again. “Dany…”

She let go of his hand, turning to walk towards the path leading up to the road, her bike coasting along at her side. Her fingers tightened on the metal handlebars. She turned, glancing back. “Yes?”

He swallowed hard. Another quick smile, teeth flashing white against his dark beard. “Take care of yourself. Just be you.”

Dany nodded. “I had fun Jon. Really.”

“Me too.”

 _Gods this is the worst._ She walked the bike up, reaching one of the turns and waved down at him again, as he watched her leave. She called out. “See you around!” It was a lie. If she had any concept of self-preservation, she would not be returning to SeaWolves Boat Tours and Taxi again, if she ever came back to the Summer Isles.

To his credit, Jon didn’t say anything back. He stood there in his t-shirt, shorts, and flipflops, hands in pockets, watching her go up the path. She refused to look back. Did all she could, summoned every bit of strength within her not to turn. She was proud of herself, getting to Qhono without turning.

With the bike stowed in the back of the car, Dany climbed in, throwing her bag aside. One of the stupid souvenirs fell out, a trucker hat with ‘Isle of Love’ on it in cheesy bubble letters. They’d gotten it at a stand on Koj. She picked it up, plucking at the plastic and foam absently.

The car engine turned over and they reversed back on the gravel, before turning to get onto the road. “Don’t do it,” Dany whispered. _Don’t do it._

The thing was, Dany never listened to anyone. Not even herself.

She turned, looking down at the dock, but he was gone.

Probably for the best, she thought, turning back in her seat, and settled into the cold, hard leather. She closed her eyes, exhausted, and pushed her fingers to her forehead, already trying to block out Jon Snow.

* * *

"Daenerys. You're glowing. Your vacation seems to still be agreeing with you."

 _Well it has definitely stuck with me._ Dany didn't want to share the news she'd recently confirmed herself, with Rhaegar, just yet. She smiled and walked over to his gigantic engraved dragonglass desk, not taking a seat. She leaned on the edge of it and picked up one of his dragon paperweights, twirling her finger around the silver tail. "Why did you call me?"

It wasn't often her brother summoned her to their main offices where he worked in Kings Landing. Dany liked to stay on Dragonstone, it suited her better and she didn't have to run into any of the various business leaders and other corporate raiders he rubbed elbows with, in his quest to take over all of Westeros. She crossed her legs, letting her heel fall off a bit, hanging from her toes, popping it up and down.

She'd returned from the Summer Isles exactly ten weeks ago. Ten weeks exactly, because it was the only possibility. And because the vacation had left her with a forever souvenir from her time there. She zoned out a little, thinking of the information, playing with the paperweight, and didn't realize that Rhaegar hadn't spoken yet; he was staring at her from his throne-like chair behind the desk. She felt her cheeks warm; Rhaegar always had a way of making her feel like she was a little kid who got their hand stuck in the cookie jar. "What?"

He smiled, vague, his legs crossed and his arms loose over the side of his chair. "Nothing, you seem...rested but distracted."

"The vacation was fun, but yeah, maybe I am a little distracted." _A lot distracted._ She pushed off the desk, going around to stare out the window. The Blackwater Bay was calm, reminding her of the Summer Isles. Except where deep in the isles the heat was therapeutic and welcome, here it was disgusting and rank. Too many people, pollution, and the evil and corruption of everyone there. She wanted to go back to Dragonstone, would as quickly as she could.

Rhaegar got out of his chair, came to stand beside her. He frowned, his smooth face barely flickering with the movement, courtesy of their superior genetics. His silver hair was in an elegant ponytail, held back with a silver clip and his black suit was cut perfectly to his tall, slim figure. He was the epitome of grace. "Do you care to share with big brother?"

"I'm pregnant."

It came out before she was realized. _Shit._ She closed her eyes, arm over her belly, the other lifting up to pinch her fingers over her nose. She sighed hard. She knew Rhaegar was curious, but he said nothing. He wouldn't. Like he had a moment ago, she felt compelled to say something to him. She mumbled, not looking at him, embarrassed. Scared. "Summer fling. Summer to remember. Souvenir, all those cliches I guess. We used protection too. Guess it was...fate." _Or those condoms were no good._

Rhaegar touched his fingertips to her shoulder, carefully turning her to him. She peered up, waiting for the lecture. About morals, sex education, how she could be so careless, this would upend any sort of succession plan he might have for her, etc. Except it didn't come. All he did was stare at her; his purple eyes indigo compared to her lighter lavender ones. He squinted them, studying a moment, and chuckled. "Well you might want another type of distraction. I'm planning an exhibition at the Red Keep Museum and Heritage Center, displaying our dragonglass artifacts and Valyrian steel collection. I was able to convince Robb Stark to loan us the Stark ancestral sword Ice for the exhibition, but I still need one more and it is also in Stark possession, but on display at the Museum of Northern History in Winterfell. I want you to go up there and get it for me."

She frowned. That was not at all what she expected. _Nothing about the baby, huh Rhaegar?_ "What like steal it? I'm not a cat burglar!"

"No, but you are technically the chairwoman of the Red Keep Museum and Heritage Center."

"A figurehead position that Mother once held, so of course it fell to me." She didn't do shit with the museum. It was boring to her, nothing but old biddies on the committee. She left it to the actual curators and experts to run the museum.

"Hmm, well I think you're uniquely suited. As a member of the Targaryen family you can exert sway that the curators cannot. This is for our exhibition anyway."

"What sword?"

"It's called Longclaw. Belongs to Ned Stark's nephew."

"I was unaware he had a nephew."

Rhaegar rolled his eyes, walking over to his bar. "Apparently the man is like a ghost, he's not involved in the Stark family drama. Collected Lyanna Stark's inheritance when she passed away, lives the life of a playboy or something."

"A playboy no one knows exists."

"Well it's the Starks, they're weird."

 _That's a word for it._ They were boring, stuffy, and only Robb was at all interesting. He seemed to have shed the cold exterior of his blue-blooded family, all of whom walked like they had frozen poles up their arseholes. She sighed. It sounded horrible, but if it got her away for a bit, fine. She rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'll do it."

"Excellent. You fly up tomorrow."

She side-eyed him. This was still really weird. "You're not going to ask about the baby?"

He patted her shoulder, moving by her to his chair. "You’re a grown woman, Daenerys. I trust you will do what is the right thing for you. It’s none of my business."

"It takes two, you know."

"I know."

"So the father, you don't want to know who he is?"

Rhaegar shrugged, reaching for his coffee cup. He lifted it to his lips and smirked over the rim. "Sounds more like something Viserys would want to know and bother you about. I take it this was unplanned, surprising, all the various synonyms. If you want to tell me, you will."

Dany was compelled to respond to him. _Damn this man._ She sighed. "We agreed not to talk to each other. Didn’t exchange phone numbers. His last name is Snow."

"He’s from the North? I hope your child inherits our looks and personality."

Daenerys thought of Jon Snow, of how beautiful he was, how funny and interesting, and she once again wished she'd pushed for more, but it was just for fun. That was all she wanted when she went down there anyway. All she wanted when she set her eyes on him, demanded the universe to let her have him, and he agreed. She smirked. "You'd be surprised. Do you think I'd fuck an ugly Northerner?"

"Good point. I'll email you the details."

This actually gave her an opportunity in disguise. She hesitated, and then thought: _fuck it._ “I'm going to stay up there a few days. I'll make arrangements to discuss the Free Folk Initiative too. I want to put more backing behind it. I think it would be good. The North are horrible to them."

"Just get that sword and the agreement for the loan in writing before you start pissing off the Starks by siding with the Free Folk," Rhaegar warned. She knew the drill. Starks couldn't take sides when it came to the rights of the people who lived beyond the wall. It was a major political firestorm, especially with the rabid Northern isolationists and separatists, including one of the Stark children, Lady Sansa, who was a raging cow when it came to her hatred of anyone without Northern blood.

Dany wondered if that extended to her now that she was growing a baby in her belly who was half Northern. She nodded, understanding Rhaegar’s position vice hers. She would prefer to actually do something important while she was up there, instead of just conning the Stark playboy to give up a sword he probably didn't even know he had in his possession. It was probably rusting away in some vault. Would look nice all lined up on display with the few priceless Valyrian objects they had on display in the museum. It was something of Rhaegar's baby. He loved that old shit.

She left, the door swinging closed behind her, Rhaegar calling out that he wished her well.

* * *

Jon told her the North had a harsh beauty. Dany agreed, gazing out the window from a refurbished area of Winterfell Castle, the ancient seat of House Stark where the family once lived. They now lived in an area of the castle that had been retrofitted for comfort, the old keep turned into the Museum of Northern History. The mountains in the distance appeared to touch the sky, ghostly and gray against the foggy moors.

It was early to meet, but an assistant for this Mr. Stark—his name was also Jon, but she imagined it was a common name up here—said he preferred morning meetings. She agreed, wanting this over as quickly as possible. She had a meeting with a Tormund Giantsbane regarding the Free Folk issues she wanted to pitch her money and time into.

And the travel hadn't done well with her still queasy belly. The morning sickness had mostly passed, but sometimes she was up really early retching. She could use it as an excuse to get the fuck out if need be. She studied some of the artifacts on display in the great room where the assistant had left her. The item in question, Longclaw, was encased in the center of the room, in a glass case with an almost invisible stand. It appeared to float.

There were drawings showing the original pommel, a bear, as it had belonged to the Northern family the Mormonts before a bastard of the North came into possession of it, and the pommel had switched to a white wolf with red eyes. It fascinated her. It seemed she just kept running into these Northern bastards. Maybe it was their libido, they just fucked everything and spread it around. She smirked, given her situation. Hit a little close to home.

She was glad she didn't have to actual speak with Ned Stark. He was so boring, so serious, and while reasonably attractive, he was so set in his ways and morals and values it was almost impossible to have a conversation with the man without wanting to tear out your hair. He _never_ compromised them. She chuckled to herself, thumbing the name of the bastard that had taken the sword from the Mormonts. _That name is familiar to me for some reason, why?_

It slipped her mind as easily as it had arrived, because the bastard who took the sword was the Lord Commander of the Night’s watch. Jon Snow. A Stark bastard. Her stomach ached, thinking of her Northern bastard, wherever he was. Somewhere in the Summer Isles. Or wherever. She’d tried to call, but Satin had said that he’d disappeared like he usually did, hadn’t divulged anything or any contact information. She’d cursed the young man out, but he stood firm, and wouldn’t give up a phone number.

It was probably for the best.

"Daenerys."

The soft burr yanked her from her daydreaming to the present, like a hook around her mid-section, dragging her head up and to the entry of the room. She gaped. _Oh my gods._

In the entryway, hands in the pockets of a pair of crisp tailored black slacks, a white shirt loosely rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned at the collar, and his raven curls messy about his face, was Jon Fucking Snow.

 _Her_ Jon Snow.

He smiled at her, the same one she last saw on a tanned face on a dock in the Summer Isles, wearing a ratty t-shirt and swim trunks, flip flops instead of designer leather boots. The tan had faded, his hair even seemed darker if possible. He stepped towards her and she noted he wore a watch on his wrist that cost about the same as a small family home in the Reach.

"Jon," she whispered, following him carefully with her gaze. She was wary. A dragon ready to strike, unsure if the threat was real or perceived. She squinted. There was a polite way she could handle this. Except Daenerys wasn't always polite. He got to within a foot of her, unblinking, not breaking eye contact at all, and she took the opportunity to fling her hands out, knocking him back a step, his arms flying sideways to balance. She snapped, shouting. "What the fucking fuck?"

He brushed at an imaginary wrinkle on his sleeve. "Nice to see you too," he said. That annoying, sarcastic voice of his. He smiled again. "I was very surprised to receive a call from your office asking to meet. At first, I thought you figured out who I was, then I realized it was about Longclaw." He frowned a little. Dany swore she saw hurt flicker in his dark eyes. He shrugged. "I guess you want to talk about loaning my beloved sword for the exhibition?"

 _Among other things_.

She wanted to scream, was about to, when another familiar voice filled the room. “Jon, I believe your nine is here, I had them show her…” the voice trailed off. Dany spun sideways, Jon glancing with her, at the sight of _fucking Satin Flowers_ standing there, holding a tablet in his hand, impeccably dressed as well. His cheeks went pink. “Um, hello Ms. Targaryen.”

Violet eyes met gray, fiery, and demanding. “What is going on?” she snapped. She shook her head slightly, whispering, still amazed. Horrified, too. "What are you doing here? Who are you?"

He sighed, disappointment now radiating off him in waves. "I think we need to talk."

_Understatement._

* * *

They left the keep, Satin apologizing to her under his breath on the way out, but she ignored him. Jon led her through a few back exits he got through with the swipe of an ID badge and a couple punches of a code. She had never attended any sort of event at Winterfell Castle. The Starks were notoriously frugal, not ones for galas, and from the ones she knew Rhaegar had attended, he had not been impressed. Dany couldn't be bothered if Rhaegar wasn't even impressed.

He took her across a courtyard and then to another area of the castle, to one of the tallest towers. He stepped up to a worn wooden door, with an engraved wolf doorknocker. She frowned unsure where he was bringing her, but once he opened the door she realized, eyes widening at the entry to what was undoubtably his personal residence. She knew this because a gigantic white wolf-dog leaped up at her, long pink tongue lolling, and paws the size of trash-can covers hitting her on the chest.

"Augh!" she screamed, falling backwards.

"Ghost!"

They struggled together a moment— she trying to stand upright again, Jon getting the animal bac—the dog staring wide-eyed at her, tail sweeping like a broom over the floor when he sat back. He blinked, bright red eyes locked on her, excited and trembling. "What the fuck?" she gasped, hand on her heart. "What is that?"

"Um, Ghost. remember?"

 _Oh gods, yes, his dog._ She nodded again, laughing shakily. "I thought you meant a real dog, that's more like a bear."

"He prefers the term wolf," Jon teased. He knelt and picked up a rope, throwing it into another room. The dog bounded after it, distracted. He crossed his arms over his chest, shifting on his feet. "So um, this is my house. Come on, you want some coffee?"

"So you're a Stark."

He sighed, going into a state-of-the-art kitchen, to a coffee maker that looked like the panel of a spaceship. He began to fuss with it. While he worked, he spoke, quiet. "I'm not a Stark."

"You live in the Stark castle."

He smirked, eyeing her again, the gray returning to that stormy color she'd first seen on the boat in the Summer Isles. Her stomach began to dance. Or maybe it was the morning sickness. She hoped it was just morning sickness. "I told you, I'm a Snow. I'm not a Stark. I don't like using the Stark last name when I know they think less of me because my mother never married my father. A father I don't even know."

She huffed, irritated at the schematics. Ultimately it didn’t matter, Snow or Stark, he still didn’t tell her about…everything. "Well I tried calling..." Just once. She didn't even really press forward on it. She nibbled her bottom lip nervously. "Satin wouldn't give me much."

"He wouldn't, he protects me."

It didn't make any sense to her. "Why aren't you in the Summer Isles?" she demanded. She followed him from the kitchen into a very warm, relaxing study, with floor-to-ceiling bookcases and a massive window overlooking the godswood, the ancient Winterfell heart-tree filling the space with its blinding white light and crimson leaves. He sat down on the bench that stretched in front of the picture window, gesturing for her to sit across from him, which she did, angrily and haughtily.

He sipped his coffee. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I go down there during the summer. It's a fun job when I get bored up here."

"Yes, well having endless amounts of money does create boredom."

"You'd know," he retorted.

Yes, she did know. Which was why it annoyed her she hadn't spotted it in him and why he didn't confide in her. She snapped. "Well as a rich kid myself, I understand more than you think. So bored rich Stark, you go down south and boat around rich people and what? Laugh at us?"

"No, I don't." He was serious, his face hardening, eyes flashing like chips of ice. "I don't do it just to make fun of people in my circle, Daenerys. It's a way for me to blow off steam, to get away from this place. Isn’t that why you were down there?"

Yes, but that was beside the point. She folded her hands over her stomach, feeling the ache for him throb within her. They were so alike, more than she ever realized, and he knew it too, judging from the way he stared at her, the way his pulse quickened in his throat, visible to her because she knew where to look. She edged closer on the bench, her knee bumping his. "So you're the mysterious Stark playboy—"

Now he was angry, lashing out. “I’m not a Stark!” He straightened up, frowning. His voice dropped. "I'm not a Stark and I'm only mysterious because I don't put up with their bullshit." He chuckled. "Just like you and the Targaryens, right? You've got your own goals. Free Folk, right?"

She was taken aback. "How do you know that?"

"I know Tormund, he's a good friend. I wasn't lying to you Daenerys. I was in the military, I was in the Night's Watch, and I head to the Summer Isles for fun. I just also run a boat tour company when I'm down there.” He gestured around the study, overflowing with books and papers and comfort. "I live here on money I make myself and money from my mother's inheritance, I don't take anything from my uncle or my rotten cousins. I don't subscribe to their politics; I don't care about that shit. Longclaw is mine because it belonged to my mother, she gifted it to me when I was born. You're welcome to have it for your exhibition. There, business concluded." He set his coffee aside and leaned in, caging her with an arm on either side of her thighs. He smelled like pine and coffee and the cigarettes he snuck. He cocked his head, those gray eyes dancing. "But there's one condition I have for that loan."

She wanted to back away, but that would admit that she was bothered by how close he was. Which she definitely wasn't. Not at all. Not bothered that he was so close she could almost hear his heartbeat, wondered if he heard hears. If he still had the tan from the Isles. IF he still had the marks of her nails in his back. Her breath quickened, nose brushing his. Gods damnit, she cursed her body, desperate again for him. She gripped the front of his shirt, fingers curling in the fine silk, wanting nothing more than to rip it off, to touch those hard muscles and feel him once more.

They had to talk, about so many, many things. Her thighs clenched together. The baby practically taunted her to tell him then. "And what’s that condition?" she murmured, licking at her lips.

"You go out with me."

She smirked, eyebrow arching. "And if I don't?"

"I always get what I want," he breathed. His breath tickled her upper lip, his mouth hovering on hers. He didn't blink. Their noses brushed, juts the tips, and she drew in a sharp intake of breath. He chuckled. She cursed her body for giving up so easy.

Her throat constricted. "Me too, so we're at an impasse."

Mock offended, he clicked his tongue. "What, you don't want to go out with me?"

Fuck it. "No I do, I will, but first I want you." She yanked him by the front of his shirt, grappling with him, both of them trying to get to each other first, mouths colliding desperately. She couldn’t breathe, lungs straining, but she didn’t want to let go of him, her fingers shaking on his skin, touching all she could through the open neck of the shirt. His hand slid under her blouse, pushing it out of the hem of her skirt. At the sudden burn of his palm on her belly, she ripped her lips from his, gasping. "wait, stop."

He ceased his movement instantly, concerned. "You alright?"

“Yeah just. Um...I have to tell you something." Her eyes twinkled on his. She nibbled her bottom lip, shrugging a shoulder. Just do it Dany. She smiled, vague. "I guess that meeting in the Isles was meant to be."

"I suppose so."

"We have a little souvenir from our time together."

He grinned. "Yeah, I still have sunburn on my arse that hasn't quite faded."

She choked a laugh. "Oh well, I've got something that's going to stick around a bit longer than sunburn."

"What's that?"

She smiled, pulling him closer, another soft, breathy laugh leaving her parted lips. "Let's just say I always get what I want Jon Snow, even things I didn't realize it until it happens."

**fin.**


	3. summer love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost two years later, Jon and Dany head back to the Summer Isles, each one with a bit of a surprise for the other-- but leave it to their daughter to really upend Jon's carefully laid plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I wasn't going to do a third part but you brow-beat me into it, and then it was going to be a drabble, and now it's 5500 words. I guess that's a drabble for me.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. "Jaedos" is Valyria for "Summer", hee hee

* * *

“Gho?”

“No baby, Ghost isn’t here with us.”

“Gho?”

Jon shoved his book into his bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder and tossing the messenger bag over to his hip, leaning over to lift his baby daughter from her seat, unbuckling her. “No, Ghost isn’t here,” he said again.

She helped him, not one to be confined, little hands trying to pull on the straps. He patted her back, hoisting her up onto his hip. She reached for his sunglasses, pushed up on his forehead, but he snatched them quickly before she destroyed another pair of designer lens. “You got her bag?” he called over his shoulder, edging out of the private plane, which had just coasted up to the spot on the tarmac outside of Tall Trees Town.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dany arguing with her phone, no doubt texting someone back home that they’d arrived. “Argh!” she complained, shoving it into her tote. She stood fluidly, snatching the other bag—a brightly colored quilted tote overflowing with baby gear—over her shoulder. “Yeah I got it, also, we arrived just in time for a paparazzi call for that ridiculous actress I hate.”

He ignored her complaining about the actress who seemed to pop up everywhere with her TV star husband, who Dany also couldn’t stand. He knew Margaery was somehow involved with them, wouldn’t be surprised if Dany’s “frenemy” was somehow behind this pap surprise. He walked over to the waiting car, Dany trotting behind him, looking at her phone. “You aren’t going to be on that thing all trip, are you?”

“I promise, it’s going away. Ugh, Marg!”

“What’d she do now?”

Dany shoved the phone under his nose. He squinted, focusing on the screen at an interview Margaery had done with a blog. The question of concern, it seemed, was related to her friendship with socialite and activist Daenerys Targaryen and Stark Industries heir Jon Stark. He wrinkled his nose; _no one_ seemed to understand he refused to go by that name. He’d legally changed it and everything. “I can’t read it; the sun is too bright.” He really just didn’t want to read it. He didn’t care what Margaery was up to.

She—ever the multitasker—read from the phone while also helping Qhono with the baby seat. “ _In response to questioning about her friendship with former party pal Daenerys Targaryen, Ms. Tyrell claimed they are still the best of friends and even more so now that Ms. Tyrell is in a long-term relationship with Robb Stark, scion of Stark Industries and the cousin of Jon Snow, Ms. Targaryen’s partner and baby daddy._ ”

He choked, disgusted by that term. “Baby daddy?”

“Gho?”

He kissed little Jae’s forehead, assuring her they would be getting in the car soon, swaying lightly in the spot. It was so warm, her pale cheeks were flushing, and the bonnet he’d tried to tie around her head was already coming off, pudgy fingers ripping at the fabric. “I know,” Dany complained, climbing out of the car. She took their daughter from him and moved to put her in the seat again, while he walked around the other side of the SUV to sit on the other side of the car-seat. “I mean, it’s so juvenile. Anyway, she basically says that we’re still good friends, she planned my baby shower, and that it was her idea to theme it after the Summer Isles because that’s where I conceived!”

The baby shower had been a surprise, one that not even Missandei had been aware of, as she’d been planning a small, tasteful little one for Daenerys, who didn’t want any cameras or other press related to her surprise pregnancy. Especially not when she was also launching her charity and getting more involved in the Dracarys Group. He’d been in the middle of a class—teaching literature to a group of Free Folk children in Hardhome—when he’d received the call. Stupid him, he hit the video call, thinking being in the hallway would be fine enough, but Dany’s screams echoed off the linoleum and tile, raging about Margaery. Then admitting it was actually quite clever and very sweet of her to think of a baby shower.

He never understood their friendship.

He sighed. “I know Dany, I remember.”

“Anyway, it’s just annoying.”

“It is,” he agreed. Margaery had taken to referring to their daughter as _Souvenir._ Satin had picked up on it during one of their visits—he was horrified that his closest confidant and friend had become as close as he had with Margaery—using it as well to refer to little Lyanna Jaedos. Also known as Jae.

His little summer miracle, he liked to think. Or rather, what happened when you used ancient condoms. Dany’s sheepish explanation to him hadn’t meant anything to him after she’d told him she was pregnant. He’d been stunned, going through a myriad of emotions, but the biggest one was simply: _wow._ The woman he’d stupidly fallen in love with over the course of three days, never to see again, and he planned to be miserable about it his entire life, knowing full well he could call her.

She didn’t know who he was, but he knew her. All he had to do was pick up the phone. _Hey Daenerys, remember me? The guy you flashed and flirted with and who fucked around with you before he started doing things only boyfriends do because well you know, he fell head over heels, straight off the boat into the water, dumb fool in love with you? I’m not really a boat captain living paycheck-to-paycheck in the Summer Isles but a rich-as-the-gods Stark heir who swore he’d never fall for anyone in the same circle and look, I did anyway._

Satin was giving him shit about it too. Said she even called a couple times, but he played dumb. “Like always Boss.”

Jon hadn’t been sure if that was the right thing. He was about to call her office anyway, to try to locate her, and just fess up and see if she didn’t feel completely betrayed, when her office called the museum. “Set it up,” he ordered Satin, who snapped to and immediately had the meeting put together. He hadn’t planned on letting anyone borrow Longclaw—it never left Winterfell—until he found out Rhaegar sent baby sister to try to arrange the deal.

And then there she was, beautiful as ever, in a sharp black suit instead of a tiny bikini and shorts. Silver hair in elaborate, intricate, sleek braids rather than the messy tangles on the boat. Her tan had faded, her skin pearly and smooth. It had gone as well as he had ever hoped; she hadn’t beat the shit out of him or burned him alive like he thought she would. Then she’d told him, mid-makeout session, that those old-as-shit condoms from her purse hadn’t worked very well.

_“I’m pregnant.”_

They spoke about it for all of ten minutes before he took her to his room and made love to her in the black silk sheets, long and slow and passionate, like how she deserved. It wasn’t a boat, she’d joked, but it would do. _”I love you,”_ he whispered, kissing over her flat belly, where deep inside their baby grew. _“We can figure this out.”_

So they did.

And Jon was finally going to take the next step, one he probably should have done ages ago. Not twenty-two months after he met her. He leaned over to wipe his finger over a smudge of chocolate on Jae’s cheek, from her snack earlier. “You excited about coming to the Summer Isles, Jae?” he asked.

The year old giggled, her rosy cheeks squishing upwards with her smile. “Gho!”

Dany laughed, reaching into the bag and removed the ratty white stuffed wolf their daughter couldn’t sleep without. “He’s back home, but this will have to do. We’ll see him in a couple weeks.”

Her forehead creased, a low whine warning of an impending meltdown. “Gho?” she whispered. Her violet eyes closed, face reddening and feet and arms screwing up towards her little body. A sob came out next. “Gho!”

The ride from the private airport—Qhono got them out the back exit to avoid the paparazzi—seemed to take an eternity, maybe because they both failed in _every_ attempt to quell their tired, cranky, hungry, and otherwise out-of-sorts baby. They arrived at their villa high in the cliffs, Qhono speaking in rapid-fire Dothraki to Dany, who let him go, the car churning up dust as he sped away. Jon didn’t fault the man for wanting to disappear.

He got Jae settled as best as possible; she passed out once she was bathed, cooled down, and in clean clothes, sucking on his index finger against his chest, her ratty ‘Gho’ held to her heart. Dany studied him from the curved archway entrance of their room. She’d changed into shorts and a bra, nothing else. “If I weren’t as tired as her, I’d be jealous of the attention she gets,” she mused.

He growled. “Why are you wearing that?”

“Would you fancy I not wear anything at all?”

“Yes.”

Dany smirked, crawling up the bed, wiggling her pert little arse in the air, just to taunt him further. She giggled and fell sideways against the piles of fluffy pillows in the crisp white sheets. The many double doors were open around their room, sea breeze blowing the curtains in gently, and the fan above them lazily rotating. He sighed; grateful they were finally here. She sighed in agreement, patting his knee, which he’d drawn up slightly ,his other stretched out, cradling their baby to his chest. Her fingers danced down his thigh and over his shorts to settle on their daughter’s little fist, which was curled under her chin.

He thought maybe she’d fallen asleep too, for the silence in the room. Only the sounds of the waves hitting the cliff underneath, the call of the variety of birds that seemed to nest around their villa, and the light raspy breaths of the wind. Except she spoke, whispering. “I love you Jon. So much.”

“I love you too,” he replied, leaning to brush his lips across her forehead. She curved against him, her eye shut, and her grip tightening slightly around him, leg tossed over his. He chuckled. “Last time we were here…”

“You thought I was a rich bitch.”

“I didn’t think you were a rich bitch; I knew there was something else to you.” He chuckled, sheepish, realizing that he wasn’t entirely telling the truth. “Okay fine, I kind of thought you were a rich bitch.”

“I knew it.” She patted his stomach. “And I thought you were a dumb sailor.”

“Aye but then you slipped and almost fell. It was funny.”

“Glad to know my potential injury on your boat was amusing.”

“It was just your reaction. You were _you_ , not the forced flirting version.”

Jae mumbled against him, whining a bit, her face screwing up again. She sobbed, letting go of Gho and reaching for her mother. “Mai,” she cried. He let her go reluctantly. It would be a strange few hours as she got used to the time difference, and they responded accordingly. Their entire lives were their daughter; Jon would never trade it for anything. He turned a little, now holding Dany against him while she tended to their baby, letting go of the strap of her bra so Jae could nurse. It was a comforting action for her now, only when she really needed to be close to her mama. She knew it too, one of her tiny hands palming Dany’s breast, while her other stretched out, almost searching for his fingers.

He let her take his thumb, squeezing hard. “You’re going to have fun,” he told her, locking onto her curious purple eyes. To Rhaegar’s annoyance—Dany told him Rhaegar was okay with her surprise pregnancy so long as the baby looked like a Targaryen—their daughter took his black curls, but her mother’s eyes. At least she had the eyes, Rhaegar bargained after Jae’s birth.

Jae rolled her eyes upwards, almost needing to check with her mother. He scoffed, while Dany laughed. “What, you don’t believe me? We’ll have tons of fun, go on a boat and we’ll go swimming, and you can make all sorts of new fishy friends.”

“Fishy friends? Jon, she lost her mind at the aquarium.”

“She did that because Satin took her, and gods only know what he said to her.”

“Well we don’t have Satin on this trip or Marge, so maybe we can get her out of that nasty habit of only coming when we call her… _that word._ ” Dany’s perfect features screwed into a scowl, teeth grit. “I could kill them both.”

 _Souvenir_ , Jon wanted to say, but knew Dany wouldn’t hear of it. He smiled, ducking his head so she didn’t see his expression. He had other plans too for their trip. It was a long time coming. They needed a vacation. Dany had done so much work on the Free Folk Initiative, he was exhausted himself, and it seemed there were always people buzzing around them, whether her friends or their colleagues or family members. This would be a vacation for them as a family, escaping just to be with each other.

He kissed Dany’s cheek, nuzzling into her neck, inhaling the scent of her lavender lotion, and lulled to sleep by his daughter’s contented snuffles and Dany’s soft humming.

* * *

“Whee! Look at Jae!”

Up on the boat, Dany took another SD card full of photos, snapping nonstop as he lifted Jae up and down in the water, her water wings—shaped like dragon wings—squeaking and squelching each time she waved her arms and flapped them onto the water. He grinned, lifting her up in the air again and then back down into the little float—again a dragon—her chubby feet kicking nonstop, like little propellers.

She squealed, absolutely loving the water. He sunk down a bit more under the water, treading carefully. After spending a few days along the beaches near their villa, acclimating Jae to the feel of sand under her feet and the waves, they’d finally taken the boat out. Today he’d brought them to one of his favorite lagoons on this side of the Isles, in the Smiling Sea. “I think we’ve got ourselves a little sea wolf,” he teased, grinning wide at Jae.

Her hands reached for him, pulling on his wet beard. “More like a sea dragon,” Dany called, voice muffled behind her camera, taking more shots.

Lifting her back out of the float, he tossed it to the boat and then rolled onto his back, kicking his feet up and pushing away, Jae carefully held in his arms as he began to zoom her around in the water. “Want to go under?” he asked her. He held her up and then ducked his head down.

The piercing scream from above brought him rocketing back up. Jae’s eyes were huge, mouth open, and horrified. “Dada!” she screeched, grabbing for him.

“I guess not.”

“Oh my gods, I thought she was going to die.” Dany dropped the camera and rushed to the side of the boat, sinking into the water without a second thought and swam over to them, kissing Jae’s still stunned face. “It’s alright baby, Momma’s here. Daddy was being mean.”

The sun was burning his skin to a crisp. He needed to get back under the water for at least a minute. He also needed to psyche himself up. The ring was in the pocket of his shorts, back up on the boat. He’d checked and rechecked and had a panic attack at least three times that it had fallen out while he was unraveling them from the dock. The shorts were folded up inside the cabin on the edge of the bed.

Once Jae had her fill of sun, some fruit and lunch, she would go down for her nap and likely sleep for hours, baby drunk on the activity. He would then take Dany out to the back of the boat, where they would recreate some of their favorite moments from the first boat trip they’d taken together. Maybe take a dip in the water to cool off, have some more trips down memory lane, and then when they got back up, he’d drop to his knee and propose.

It would be a surprise—they decided they would get to know each other as a couple before they got married. Even if they were also having a baby. Their lives became consumed with parenthood, their families, and their work. They’d never mentioned marriage, but he knew Dany wanted it. She wouldn’t push him. She was independent like that. Dany also got what Dany wanted. She wanted marriage; she’d get it.

Except like everything in their relationship, he liked to surprise her.

Surprising her by not going along with her flirting, with taking her on fun boat trips and dates, surprising her by knocking her up—he’d been a bit impressed with that one himself honestly—it was kind of their thing. He took great pleasure in keeping Daenerys Targaryen on her toes. Purchasing the villa in the Summer Isles was one of the latest ones. She’d been thrilled; they’d discussed it a bit, she’d picked one out to visit but he knew she wanted it. So he bought it for her.

And here they were.

They swam a bit longer, careful not to let Jae see whenever one of them went under the water. Until he couldn’t take it anymore and he ducked under, coming to grab at her little feet dangling lazily from her float. They were just so soft and chubby, and she had the cutest little wrinkles around her ankles. The howling he got in response to his surprise and the beating he received from a dragon Mama informed him a bit too late how stupid an idea that one was.

He assured Jae she was fine, floating about with her some more. Her dark curls were hidden beneath a floppy beach hat and she wore a little red swimsuit with white polka dots, and ruffles around her chunky thighs, the top a shirt that came to her wrists to keep her fine skin out of the sun’s harsh rays. She pulled on a lock of his dark hair, trying to eat it. “No baby,” he assured her, swimming with her a bit more. He pointed out fish that fluttered by them in the shallow lagoon water and a big sea turtle.

Except the one-year old, unlike her mother’s first visit to the beautiful Summer Isles lagoons, did not care at all about the wildlife. She was more interested in the various floats, noodles, and other toys Dany continuously tossed down to entertain her. The yawning became a bit too much for either one of them to ignore, so he hoisted her up onto the outboard so Dany could take her, and he collected all the toys.

 _Almost time_ , his heart reminded him, thudding faster and harder. He was so nervous. More than he’d been ever in his life. Even when Jae came along, taking her sweet time, Dany cursing him to the seven hells for his part in her pain. “I never should have gone on that stupid boat trip!” she roared, throwing things at him in the hospital room. “And where is Satin? Where is that prick? I’ll kill him! He stole the actual working condoms!”

When the nurse set Jae on her breast, wiggling and screaming, covered in birth fluids and blinking her big purple eyes up at them both, Dany sobbed, recanting everything she ever said about regretting coming on that vacation. “I know,” he assured her, kissing her brow, crying himself. He’d never been more thankful for an annoying group of rich tourists before in his life, or a set of busted dried out condoms. Or even Satin, honestly.

Almost time, almost time, a metronome beat. He hoisted himself back onto the boat, stowed all the toys, and dried off, shucking his swimsuit and wrapping a towel around his waist. He pulled back his hair into a knot, not wanting it to be in his way. “Dany?” he called, soft, walking around the cockpit of the boat, seeing her standing on the bow, swaying gently, a fluffy gray towel wrapped around Jae, whose head was lolling on her mother’s shoulder. He smiled, noting it was the towel with the hood and the paws, to give her the semblance she was a wolf.

He sauntered over, kissing his daughter’s sleeping face. “I’ll take her,” he assured Dany, who nodded, and let go, giving her another kiss. He hummed to himself, carrying Jae into the cabin and to the portacrib set beside the bed. She was clean of her swimsuit and had a new diaper, her curls spiraling in every direction, like a tiny mad scientist. Rosy cheeked, her lips pursed and moving in sleep, she sighed, hugging her blanket and Ghost toy, hardly stirring as he set her down.

He stared at her for a few minutes, unable to believe this little creature happened to be half of him. Or that she wouldn’t exist if he’d held firm to his “don’t sleep with the clients” rule. _Thank gods I broke that rule._ A final kiss to her forehead, he left her and returned up to the deck, finding Dany had also removed her swimsuit and was wandering about in nothing but a thin black kimono.

“You look good,” he noted.

“I think I’m burned,” she said, craning her neck around to study her shoulder, pushing her finger into the skin. She huffed. “Yup, it’s all red.”

“It’ll fade.”

She laughed, walking to him, her hips swinging teasingly. “Look at my Northern wolf, you’ve got some on your face.” Her lips brushed over his cheeks and his nose. He hummed his appreciation. The sunburn meant nothing, even if it did kind of ache, when she was in his arms. He grabbed her mouth with his, a searing kiss, a promise of what was soon to follow. She moaned, fingers tangling in his hair, and arched her hips against his.

This wasn’t quite the way he was going to plan it, but it was good enough for him. He pushed her forwards, towards the leather couch built into the bow, lowering her down to it, and broke the kiss long enough to rasp against her skin, delighting in her mewling pleasure, the way her body slicked against his. “Can’t believe it’s been almost two years.”

“Oh gods, I know.”

“You were so annoying.”

“You were such an arsehole.” She gasped, his lips anchoring to the sweet spout at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. A soft laugh escaped her. As he didn’t think he was being all that funny, he inquired as to why she felt humorous. She grinned, pulling his face away so she could kiss him again. “Hmm, I’m just remembering when we met your family…and your cousin’s face.”

“At the sight of my six-months pregnant girlfriend with Valyrian features?” It delighted him to no end as well. He kept his private life private, even from his family. Only Robb and his cousin Arya knew because they were the only ones he really liked. He’d told his uncle there was a woman he was “heavily involved” with and Ned’s reaction had been to make sure he had all his finances and things well protected. And to make sure she wouldn’t “upset” the Stark Industries bottom line.

As she was the heiress to the Dracarys Group, an organization with more power and control over Stark Industries than Ned ever wanted to admit, Jon had delighted in saying “no she won’t” and then taking his jet down to Dragonstone to relay the news in person to Dany. They’d made their public, social, and familial debut at a gala Ned held at Winterfell, one of the rare ones, and Dany had proudly led the way with her pregnant belly, wearing a dress that resembled flames.

It wasn’t that she was already well into her third-trimester with his baby that offended his aunt and cousin, but her Valyrian features. When he introduced her as Daenerys Targaryen, they’d almost died on the spot.

“That was a good night,” he sighed, remembering the fun they’d had. At the gala and after.

It was pure chance she happened to wander onto his boat that morning. Just like it had been pure chance he’d even be in the Summer Isles. He’d only arrived a couple weeks before that fateful day. He’d been torn between joining Edd, Satin, and a couple of his other guys who worked summers at the boat company and then up North at his ski resort—Dany had been stunned when he broke that news to her—part of him wanted to stay up North, maybe venture to Skagos and just chill out for a bit there.

_Thank gods I came here instead._

The irony of it all. He wanted nothing more than to escape his image as a rich playboy living off his inheritance, so he funneled his money into various businesses: the boat company, the ski resort, a publishing company, and the museum up North. All the various charities he was a silent chairman in and the one he was not so silent about, the Lyanna Stark Fund, which devoted countless resources to orphaned, fostered, and otherwise abandoned children. He vowed never to end up with anyone in his circle. _Ever._

Until Daenerys Targaryen, the complete antithesis of anything he’d ever wanted, showed up.

And here they were.

He kissed her again, unable to believe they were truly back here, basking in the sunlight, tangled in each other’s warm and still slightly damp skin. The wind, the light rocking of the boat from the waves, and the rustling of the leaves…

“Dada?”

“Hmm,” he mumbled against her mouth, wondering why he was hearing his daughter’s voice. _She should be sleeping._ His hand curved down to Dany’s shapely arse, lightly squeezing while she curved her hands under him to dig her nails into his arsecheek, in retaliation.

“Dada?”

Dany broke away, frowning down at him, her lips swollen and bright red. “Jon?”

“Dada?”

They both turned their faces, startled, and he jumped up, dumping Dany off his lap. “Jae!” he yelped, rushing to their baby, who was standing on her shaky legs, arms up for him. His eyes widened in horror, realizing what could have happened—she could have fallen off the boat, drowned or…or…he squeezed her so hard she yelped, crying out. “Oh gods Jae, are you alright?”

“Momma’s here,” Dany said, falling to her knees next to them, reaching to check on her, running fingers over her arms and legs and head. “Oh my gods Jon! How did she get out of her crib? We didn’t hear you sweet girl! Are you alright?”

There appeared to be no outward sign of injury. Jae was giving them strange looks, as though expecting them to be proud of her for escaping her crib and climbing up the steps and then walking on the deck over to them. She struggled against him, reaching for Dany. “I’ll get her something to drink,” he said, getting to his feet. He was shaken, going down to the galley and opening the fridge, removing one of the juice pouches she liked.

He dumped it into a sippy cup shaped like a crab—Dany had gone all out on getting her a sea-themed trousseau and accompanying toys and dishes for the trip—turning to go back up to the deck when he noticed something sticking out of the door to the stateroom. He frowned, going over and adjusting the towel still around his waist. _My shorts_ , he thought, kneeling and picking them up. He forgot to put them on after he set her down.

He moved to set them back on the bed, when he realized that some of his other clothes were also strewn around. Ghost the toy sat on the bed. He realized that she must have somehow climbed up and out of the crib using the bed to help her, before sliding onto the floor. Must have dropped his clothes in the process.

“Hey Jon?”

“Coming!” Not thinking much of it, he went back up to them, holding the sippy cup. “Here you go my little wolf.”

Dany had an odd expression on her face, her cheeks pinker than they were when he’d left her. She wasn’t meeting his eyes and had one hold on Jae, holding her to her hip, and held something else in her hand. He was going to ask what was wrong, if she found something wrong with their daughter, when she lifted her hand up and revealed what she’d been holding.

_The ring._

His jaw dropped. “Um,” he immediately mumbled, sheepish. He glanced at Jae, who was chewing on Dany’s sunglasses. He blinked, focusing on the ring. The ring box, actually. He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet, and scrubbing his face. “So that…that’s…I have an answer for that.”

Dany was trying not to smile. She handed him the box, pressing it to his fingers. “What is your answer?” she murmured. A silver eyebrow lifted. “Or rather…” She licked her lips, teasing. “Question?”

 _Oh gods, this is not how I wanted to do this._ He swallowed the lump in his throat again, pushing his thumb on the edge of the box, flicking it up to reveal his mother’s treasured sapphire and diamond ring, one that looked like the sapphire was a rose blossom. He could get on his knee, but if he did that, the towel would probably fall. Dany waited, holding Jae, who peered at him curiously. He sighed, smiling at his daughter, laughing. “You messed up my surprise!”

“Wha?” Jae echoed, mouth around the sunglasses, the cup in one hand. She waved it, spraying juice on them, squealing.

Dany sobbed, but her tears were happy, trickling down her cheeks, her smile so wide her eyes had almost disappeared behind them. He laughed himself and held the ring up. “So um…Dany…”

“Yes?” she whispered, teeth tugging her lower lip under, chewing in the nervous way he loved so much. She squeezed Jae tighter.

“I had this whole thing planned, but um, for all our planning sometimes, we just…we really get thrown off track.” They laughed, almost crying now, and he felt like a bloody idiot, but when didn’t he feel like a bloody idiot around Daenerys? Sometimes he couldn’t believe she was still there with him. He sighed, smiling softly, and held the ring to her eye level, whispering, “Will you marry me?”

She released her lip, her teeth shining white and her smile broke, laughing. “Yes! Yes I will!”

They fumbled, laughing and kissing, trying to adjust Jae on her hip and in their arms while he also put the ring on her left hand. He took their daughter in one arm and Dany in the other, their knees giving out. They fell onto the couch, laughing, kissing, and Jae hitting them annoyingly with her cup, babbling incoherently.

Dany held his face in her palms, the cool band from the ring pressing into his sunburned cheek. “You are full of surprises Jon Snow, since the day I met you.”

“And you are too,” he said, grinning. He shifted Jae in his arms. “And leave it to this one to change the order of things.”

“That she did,” Dany laughed.

They nuzzled Jae, who frowned up at them, still unsure why they were behaving the way they were. She offered him the cup, which he took and set aside, kissing her grape-juice stained fingers. “Da?” she wondered.

“You constantly surprise me,” he said to his daughter, who smiled then.

Dany hesitated, that uncertain look crossing her fine features again. He frowned, silently questioning. He hoped there was nothing else wrong. She smiled, fast, and shook her head, reaching to stroke her fingers over his beard and then diving into his hair, holding his face towards her. “No, don’t worry it’s just…well…I had some news I wanted to share too. I was going to wait…but now seems as good a time as any.”

Jon cocked his head, wondering. Dany grinned and threw her arms out, laughing. “I’m pregnant again!”

His eyes widened, mouth falling.

And briefly he wondered how she always managed to surprise him.


End file.
